AFRICAN 
ADVENTURERS 

JEAN 
KEN  YON 
MACKENZI 


HBRARY 

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AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

JEAN  KENYON  MACKENZIE 


Copyright,  Missionary  Education  Movement 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    ANNIE     MARY 


Annie  Mary  was  Livingstone's  youngest  daughter. 
This  picture  was  taken  in  1865  just  before  he 
left      England      for     his     last     journey      to     Africa. 


AFRICAN 
ADVENTURERS 


BY 

JEAN  KENYON  MACKENZIE 

JlUTHOE    Of     "BLACK    SHEEP,"    AND    "AH    AFRICAN    TRAU." 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    xfir  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  192%, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


AFRICAN    ADVENTURERS.    I 


PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES    OF    AMERICA 


I    DEDICATE 
THIS     UTTLE     STORY     TO 

THE  CHILDREN  OF  AFRICAN  MISSIONARIES 

J  hope  these  young  people  will  like  to  read  about  the 
black  boys  and  girls  and  their  adventures  on  the  trails  of 
the  great  forests  and  in  the  little  rough  school  houses  that 
are  built  in  the  clearings.  I  hope  they  will  be  pleased  with 
the  story  of  Livingstone  told — as  I  have  tried  to  tell  it — 
from  the  lips  of  a  young  African  lad,  speaking  to  the  chiefs 
of  his  tribe  about  the  great  white  adventurer. 

I  invite  my  readers  to  follow  me  on  the  trail  of  this  little 
book  into  the  forest  where  I  will  show  them  many  strange, 
true  things — both  new  and  old. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

The  author  gratefully  acknowledges  her  appreciation 
to  the  Central  Committee  on  the  United  Study  of 
Foreign  Missions  for  their  arrangement  with  George 
H.  Doran  Company  for  the  re-issue  of  "African 
Adventurers'*  in  a  Library  Edition,  with  the  hope 
that  this  new  Edition  will  reach  an  ever  increasing 
circle  of  readers. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I     The  Family  of  Akulu  Me  jo 


II     White  Men  and  Their  Adventures     . 

III  Assam  Tells  More  About  Livingstone 

IV  An  Adventure  with  Dwarfs    . 

V     Adventures  of  Assam  and  Mejo     . 
VI     The  Return  of  the  Adventurers       . 
About  the  People  of  this  Story  . 


13 
47 
75 
107 
133 
155 
177 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Livingstone  and  Annie  Mary     ....  Frontispiece 

PAGE 

School  Boys  at  Play 16 

The  Village  of  Efa 17 

Asala 32 

The  Hunter's  Camp 32 

The  White  Man's  Caravan 33 

The   Lonely  House 80 

The  Caravan  of  the  White  Woman       ....  80 

The  Ferry 81 

A  River  Journey 81 

Bekalli — Son  of  Efa 144 

The  Smallest  Girls  in  Assam's  School  ....  145 

The  Big  Boys  in  Assam's  School 145 

Map  Showing  Home  of  Bulu  People     ....  160 


CHAPTER  I:  THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO 


AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

CHAPTER  I:     THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  ME  JO 

THE  little  brown  mother  of  Mejo  sat  by  the 
door  of  her  hut  waiting  for  him  to  come 
home.  On  the  fire  that  was  laid  on  the  clay  floor 
of  the  hut  a  big  clay  pot  gurgled.  Me  jo's  din- 
ner was  in  this  kettle,  well  tucked  in  under  some 
wide  banana  leaves.  Presently,  when  she  saw 
the  body  of  her  son  enter  the  clearing,  Me  jo's 
mother  lifted  the  kettle  from  the  fire ;  with  quick 
movements  of  her  hardy  hands  she  took  off  the 
layers  of  green  leaves  that  covered  the  kettle,  and 
Me  jo's  dinner  steamed  in  the  little  hut.  There 
were  two  courses  for  dinner — there  was  a  mess 
of  greens  and  there  were  ears  of  corn.  The 
greens  and  the  corn  were  there  together  in  the 
kettle. 

Me  jo's  mother  found  a  wooden  bowl  on  the 
floor  and  a  wooden  ladle  thrust  by  its  handle  into 

13 


14        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

the  bamboo  slattings  of  the  wall ;  she  blew  on  the 
bowl  and  the  spoon  to  dust  them,  then  she  filled 
the  little  bowl  with  hot  greens.  But  for  the  ears 
of  corn  she  made  a  little  platter  of  a  green  leaf. 

Me  jo  was  no  more  than  thirteen  years  old  but 
he  had  to  duck  to  enter  the  hut,  for  the  walls  were 
low.  Inside  he  could  stand  upright  for  the  ridge 
of  the  roof  was  all  of  ten  feet  from  the  ground. 
Me  jo  sat  upon  his  heels  before  his  little  dinner 
and  his  mother  sat  opposite  him  on  a  little  stool 
hewn  from  a  block  of  wood.  They  ate  with  little 
wooden  spoons  from  the  wooden  bowl.  But  be- 
fore they  ate  at  all  they  bowed  their  heads  and 
said: 

" Akeva,  Zambe !"  That  is  to  say— "Thanks  to 
God!" 

"They  say  we  live  in  Africa,"  said  Mejo,  when 
he  had  been  a  little  time  silent  and  busy  with 
greens  and  corn. 

"Who  says  so?"  asked  his  mother. 

"The  teacher  says  so,"  said  Mejo. 

"What  kind  of  a  teacher  says  so — is  it  the 
white  man  or  one  of  the  black  people?" 

"Even  if  it  were  a  black  teacher — and  it  was,  it 
was  Ela  from  Asok — will  you  doubt  it?     He 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    15 

heard  it  from  the  white  man.  And  when  he 
doubted  it  and  he  knocked  on  the  white  man's 
door  at  night  to  ask  him  of  this  thing ;  the  white 
man  said,  'Surely,  yes.'  The  white  man  showed 
E  la  in  a  book  a  word  that  says  that  the  black  peo- 
ple live  in  Africa." 

"Was  it  a  book  in  the  Bulu  speech  or  a  book 
in  the  German  speech?" 

"It  certainly  was  a  book  in  the  German 
speech." 

"Was  it  a  word  from  God?"  asked  Mejo's 
mother — "did  Ela  read  in  God's  Word  that  we 
live  in  Africa?" 

"No,  I  cannot  say  that  that  book  was  one  of 
the  words  of  God.  It  was  just  a  white  man's 
book." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Mejo's  mother,  "I  don't 
believe  it.  I  who  have  lived  in  this  forest  always, 
did  I  ever  hear  that  we  live  in  Africa?  What  the 
old  and  wise  of  the  tribe  never  knew,  how  can  the 
white  man  know  it — who  is  a  stranger  of  yester- 
day? If  you  ask  me  where  we  live  I  will  still  tell 
you  that  we  live  in  the  country  of  the  Bulu  tribes! 
It  is  just  pride  that  is  in  all  this  teaching  that  Ela 
teaches  you.    He  lies  to  you  about  the  words  he 


16        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

reads  in  the  white  man's  book!    He  knows  that 
you  are  still  ignorant  and  he  does  not  fear  to  lie!" 

"You  are  certainly  a  person  of  doubts.  I  be- 
lieve him.  I  believe  him  because  all  the  things  I 
doubted  one  day  I  saw  them  to  be  true  the  next 
day.  When  he  taught  me  the  little  marks  that 
are  letters  he  told  me  always  that  those  letters  if 
you  knew  how  to  join  them,  would  be  created 
words.  I  always  said  in  my  heart, — words  are 
made  in  the  mouth,  they  are  never  made  in  the 
eye.  Then  one  day  I  saw  a  joining  of  letters 
make  a  word — Eke — strange  thing!  Even  as  he 
said.    Now  I  am  able  to  believe  him." 

"You  believe  too  much,"  said  Me  jo's  mother. 
"You  just  better  believe  all  the  words  that  are 
the  words  of  God ;  that  will  be  enough  for  you  to 
believe.  You  were  certainly  very  late  on  the 
path  tonight.  I  thought  the  sun  would  be  lost 
before  you  came.  I  asked  my  heart, — that  son 
of  mine,  where  is  he?  Does  he  not  have  wisdom 
enough  to  fear  the  things  of  the  dark?  Where 
did  you  linger?" 

"I  visited  my  traps,"  said  Mejo,  "those  little 
traps  I  set  on  the  day  that  is  Saturday  when  we 
do  not  have  school.    I  set  some  bird  traps  over 


SCHOOL  BOYS  AT  PLAY 

Wrestling   is   a   favorite   sport   among  the    Forest    tribes. 


THE    VILLAGE    OF    EFA 

This  is  where  the  boys   taught  school. 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    17 

by  the  great  rock  in  the  direction  where  the  sun 
rises." 

"Did  you  kill  anything?" 

"How  can  you  ask  me  that  when  you  and  I  eat 
just  nothing  at  all  but  greens  and  corn!  I  feel 
such  a  meat-hunger  that  I  could  eat  a  rat. 
Though  I  am  too  big  to  eat  rats  now!" 

"Don't  hang  your  heart  up,"  said  Me  jo's 
mother — "if  you  kill  nothing  tomorrow,  myself, 
I  will  cook  you  some  good  food.  All  day  when 
I  work  in  the  garden  I  will  watch  for  a  snail  or 
caterpillars  and  if  when  the  sun  is  in  the  middle 
I  have  found  nothing,  I  will  come  back  from  the 
the  garden  in  time  to  kill  you  a  few  little  fishes." 

It  was  growing  dark  now  in  the  little  hut, 
except  where  the  light  of  the  fire  lay  low  between 
the  fire  stones. 

"It  is  the  sixth  hour  now,"  said  Mejo. 

"What  is  that  new  word  you  say?"  asked  his 
mother. 

"I  said,  it  is  the  sixth  hour.  Because  they  told 
us  in  school  today  that  when  the  sun  is  lost  then 
it  is  the  sixth  hour  of  the  night.  When  it  rises 
that  hour  is  the  sixth  hour  of  the  morning." 

"And  when  it  is  the  middle?" 


18        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"Then  it  is  the  twelfth  hour.  And  when  the 
women  begin  to  come  from  their  gardens  it  is 
then  the  second  hour  after  noon." 

"How  do  they  know  all  that?  Who  said  that 
this  is  one  hour  and  another  hour?  What  is  an 
hour?" 

"The  clock  tells  them.  You  saw  the  clock 
when  you  went  to  see  the  white  man's  baby.  All 
these  questions  you  ask  me  are  so  many  ques- 
tions.   Did  any  hen  lay  an  egg  today?" 

"A  hen  certainly  did — and  there  are  now  six 
eggs  in  the  corner  by  my  bed." 

"Ah,  mother — give  me  those  six  eggs!" 

"I  am  to  give  you  those  six  eggs  ?  And  a  little 
chicken  in  every  eggl  What  new  thing  do  you 
have  in  your  heart  that  you  should  beg  all  my 
six  eggs  and  all  those  six  little  chickens  from  me  ? 
You  are  not  so  hungry  that  you  must  eat  an  egg9 
are  you?" 

"Never  could  I  bear  to  eat  an  egg — but  I  want 
to  buy  a  writing  stone  (a  slate).  My  old  one  is 
broken.  You  know  that  I  must  work  for  many 
mornings  on  the  mission  farm  to  buy  another 
writing  stone.  And  those  six  eggs  are  half  the 
price  of  the  stone.    I  hate  to  rise  from  my  bed 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    19 

when  the  women  rise  to  go  to  their  farms;  then 
the  dew  is  everywhere  and  I  hate  to  work  among 
the  weeds  with  my  body  all  wet  with  dew.  So  I 
said  in  my  heart,  I  believe  my  mother  will  give 
me  some  eggs,  and  so  with  some  eggs  one  day 
and  some  another  I  can  buy  my  writing  stone." 

"How  soft  are  the  bodies  of  boys  that  they  can- 
not bear  the  chill  of  the  morning.  Have  not  the 
mothers  of  men  risen  always — all  these  genera- 
tions of  men — and  suffered  the  dew  on  their 
bodies  and  the  chill  that  is  in  the  dawn,  that  men 
might  eat  good  food  from  the  garden!  But  just 
ask  a  boy  to  rise  early  and  to  walk  in  the  wet 
grasses — then  he  has  a  sullen  face.  No — I  must 
keep  my  eggs  for  my  own  debts.  You  know  as 
well  as  I  do  that  I  will  be  wanting  a  gift  for  God 
on  the  day  that  is  Sunday  when  the  people  of 
God  bring  every  one  a  gift  to  God.  And  three 
of  us  who  are  people  of  God  in  this  town  have 
tied  ourselves  to  buy  medicine  for  old  Vunga 
who  lies  on  her  bed  in  her  hut." 

Now  it  was  dark  in  Me  jo's  mother's  house. 
There  was  no  moon  that  night,  the  oil  palm  trees 
in  the  middle  of  the  clearing  were  lost  in  the  dark. 
Across  the  street  of  the  town  other  little  huts  of 


20        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

other  wives  of  Me  jo's  father  were  lost  too,  except 
where  firelight  shone  through  the  slits  in  the  bark 
walls,  or  through  the  doors  that  were  still  open. 

"I  will  go  and  salute  my  father,"  said  Mejo. 

"You  school  boys  never  know  the  news  of  the 
town,"  said  Me  jo's  mother.  "I  might  run  away 
or  a  tree  in  falling  might  fall  on  me,  and  you 
would  come  in  at  the  day's  end  to  ask, — 'Why 
does  not  my  mother  show  me  my  evening  meal?' 
Now  everyone  but  you  knows  that  your  father  is 
not  in  town." 

"Where  then  is  he?" 

"He  has  gone  to  Mekok.  A  carrier  with  a  load 
of  rubber  for  the  trader  at  the  beach  passed  on 
the  path  this  morning.  He  said  that  six  days 
ago  when  he  passed  the  town  of  Mekok  he  asked 
a  drink  of  water  from  a  woman  in  that  town.  In 
that  woman's  house  was  a  little  girl  who  begged 
him  to  take  a  packet  of  peanuts  to  her  mother  as 
he  would  be  passing  her  mother's  town." 

"  'I  am  Asala,'  she  told  that  carrier,  'the 
daughter  of  Akulu  Mejo.  I  am  the  sister  of 
Mejo  Akulu.  I  am  married  in  the  town  of  Me- 
kok since  the  last  rainy  season.  My  mother  is  a 
little  thin  woman,  one  of  the  wives  of  Akulu 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    21 

Me  jo.  She  is  a  person  of  God.  She  is  easy  to 
find — everyone  knows  her.  Perhaps  you  too 
have  a  little  daughter  sold  into  a  far  marriage. 
So  I  beg  you  to  take  these  peanuts  to  my  mother. 
Tell  her  that  Bilo'o,  my  husband's  wife  in  whose 
house  I  live,  has  permitted  me  to  take  these  pea- 
nuts from  her  garden.  Because  I  have  no  other 
present  to  send  my  mother.  Tell  my  mother  that 
I  think  of  her  always  from  the  dawn  of  one  day 
to  the  dawn  of  another  day.  Tell  her  that  a  man 
who  passed  on  the  path  two  moons  back  gave  me 
this  news, — that  at  the  time  of  the  planting  of 
peanuts  my  mother  was  sick.  When  I  heard  that 
news  my  heart  dried  up  and  I  could  not  eat. 
Then  I  begged  God  for  my  mother.  Tell  my 
mother  now  I  am  thin  with  grief  and  longing!" 
"All  this  news  of  your  little  sister  the  man  with 
the  load  of  rubber  told  me,  and  I  cooked  him 
some  plantains  and  he  ate.  But  while  those  plan- 
tains were  on  the  fire  I  went  to  the  palaver  house 
where  your  father  sat  talking  to  a  guest — and 
because  my  heart  was  heavy  in  me  I  did  not  fear 
to  speak  before  the  guest.  I  said  to  your  father, 
'How  many  times  have  we  planted  peanuts  since 


22        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

you  bought  me  from  my  father  in  his  town  that 
is  on  the  path  that  comes  from  the  sun's  rising?' 

"Your  father  just  looked  at  me, — it  would  be 
a  long  hunting  that  would  remember  all  those 
planting  of  peanuts  that  we  have  planted  since 
that  day  he  bought  me  for  a  big  ivory,  and  I  was 
then  a  girl  no  bigger  than  your  wrist. 

"Then  I  asked  him  another  question.  'How 
many  times  before  I  became  a  person  of  God  did 
I  run  away  from  this  marriage  that  you  and  I  are 
married?' 

"Your  father  hunted  to  remember  those  run- 
nings away  that  I  ran.  On  his  fingers  he  counted 
six  runnings.  And  he  said,  'Yes — Six  runnings 
you  ran  away.  As  long  as  your  mother  lived  you 
would  run  away  to  her.  And  after  she  died  you 
ran  away  for  other  reasons.  You  were  certainly 
a  bad  runner  away!' 

"  'I  hear!  and  since  I  am  a  person  of  the  tribe 
of  God — how  many  runnings  away  have  I  run?' 

"  'Why,  none  at  all,'  said  your  father.  'Do 
women  who  are  persons  of  that  tribe  run  away?' 

"  'I  tell  you  a  true  word,'  I  said  to  your  father, 
'My  heart  has  run  away  today  to  my  little  daugh- 
ter who  is  married  in  Mekok.    She  sends  a  mes- 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    23 

sage  for  me.  I  must  see  that  child.  I  beg  you 
to  let  me  visit  her.' 

"Then  your  father  said  No — he  would  visit  her. 
He  said  that  one  of  the  goats  that  Asala's  hus- 
band had  given  on  the  dowry  had  died.  So  he 
must  go  to  beg  of  Asala's  husband  another  goat. 
He  would  say  to  Asala's  husband, — 'Now  the 
girl  I  gave  you  did  not  die,  did  she?  Or  I  would 
have  given  you  another  of  my  daughters  in  her 
place.  But  the  goat  you  gave  me  has  died.  So 
you  must  give  me  another  goat.' 

"Then  your  father  called  some  of  his  young 
men  for  a  journey.  Together  they  went  away  at 
noon.  As  for  me,  I  have  just  sat  in  my  house  all 
day  and  desired  with  a  great  desire  to  see  my  little 
daughter.  Now  I  am  going  to  lie  down  upon  my 
bed.  Before  we  part  teach  me  the  new  word  of 
the  Word  of  God  that  you  learned  in  school  to- 
day." 

"  'The  Son  of  man  came  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost.'    Now  repeat,"  said  Me  jo. 

1  'The  Son  of  man,'  he  that  was  Jesus,"  said 
Me  jo's  mother,  "came  to  seek  the  people  lost  in 
the  forest  and  to  save  them." 

"You  have  caught  the  argument,  but  you  have 


24        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

put  too  many  words  in  it,  try  again,"  and  Mejo 
set  the  model  again.  But  Mejo's  mother  always 
said,  "lost  in  the  forest." 

"Even  so,"  said  she,  "you  see  that  the  Word  of 
God  says  nothing  about  Africa;  it  does  not  say 
that  we  were  lost  in  Africa — that  country  that 
you  tell  about.  And  I  know  that  we  were  lost  in 
the  forest,  so  it  is  hard  not  to  put  those  words  into 
the  word !" 

"If  you  were  in  school,"  said  Mejo,  "they 
wouldn't  let  you  do  it,  so  I  won't."  And  he  per- 
sisted until  his  mother  said  his  verse  correctly. 

"I  am  going  to  bed  now,"  said  he. 

He  took  a  brand  from  the  fire  and  went  out 
into  the  street.  He  waved  the  brand  about  to 
keep  the  burning  end  of  it  bright.  This  he  did  to 
drive  away  any  snake  that  might  be  abroad  in  the 
dark.  By  this  dim  and  ruddy  light,  Mejo  came 
to  a  little  house  where  he  lived  with  Assam,  his 
half  brother,  one  of  the  older  sons  of  Akulu  Mejo. 
The  mother  of  Assam  was  dead. 

The  boys  had  built  this  little  house  for  them- 
selves. Together  they  had  cut  and  trimmed  the 
young  sapling  trees  that  were  the  frame  work. 
They  themselves  had  peeled  from  great  trees  the 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    25 

big  plates  of  bark  that  were  the  walls.  Their 
father  had  given  them  the  mats  of  palm-leaves 
that  were  the  thatch  of  the  roof,  and  some  "real 
men"  of  the  village  had  helped  them  bring  in  and 
raise  the  long  straight  sapling  that  was  the  ridge 
pole.  That  day  they  had  all  sung  the  song  of  the 
roof  tree.  Many  little  brothers  had  helped  them 
thatch  their  roof,  singing  the  song  of  the  thatch. 
Now  they  lived  together  under  this  roof  with  the 
dignity  of  school  boys. 

Assam  was  perhaps  sixteen  years  old,  perhaps 
seventeen.  He  had  three  loin  cloths  all  his  own, 
and  two  singlets.1  He  had  a  felt  hat,  but  his 
father  often  borrowed  this  and  wore  it  on  long 
journeys.  He  owned  a  Book  of  the  Word  of 
God  in  the  Bulu  language.  He  owned  a  lan- 
tern— the  only  lantern  in  that  town.  He  could 
write  in  a  beautiful,  clear  hand.  He  was  very 
much  admired  by  his  father,  and  by  the  people  of 
the  village.  For  nick-name  and  drum  name  the 
villagers  gave  him  a  name  that  they  beat  upon  the 
call  drum  when  they  summoned  him  from  a  dis- 
tance too  great  for  the  call  of  the  human  voice. 
This  phrase  is  that  name  they  gave  him — 

1  Really  an  undervest,  much  worn  as  an  upper  garment. 


26       AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"He  stands  like  a  dagger." 

This  was  a  phrase  of  admiration  because  As- 
sam was  a  fine  youth,  straight  and  slim. 

"Strange  thing  about  Assam,"  the  villagers 
said,  "he  is  not  proud."  And  for  this  they  ap- 
proved him  and  admired  him  the  more. 

On  this  night  of  which  I  tell  you,  when  Me  jo 
came  into  their  little  house,  Assam  was  studying 
his  lessons  by  the  light  of  the  lantern  that  stood 
on  a  little  table  of  bamboo — the  boys  had  built 
a  table  in  their  house. 

"Assam,"  said  Me  jo. 

"Say  it!"  said  Assam,  not  looking  up  from  his 
book. 

"It  is  a  question,"  said  Mejo. 

"Ask  it,"  said  Assam — 

"Today  did  they  speak  in  your  class  about  the 
things  of  teaching?" 

"They  did,"  said  Assam.  "They  said  vaca- 
tion was  near,  and  it  would  be  well  to  see  the  com- 
pany of  boys  who  were  willing  to  teach  in  the 
villages  during  vacation.  They  said  that  many 
villages  far  away  were  calling  for  teachers.  Mr. 
Krug  said  all  the  boys  who  were  people  of  God 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    27 

and  who  were  willing  to  go  on  those  journeys  and 
teach  in  those  schools  must  rise  from  their  seats." 

"Did  you  rise  from  your  seat?" 

"I  did,"  said  Assam. 

"What  boy  goes  with  you?" 

"How  do  I  know  what  boy  goes  with  me? 
Mr.  Krug  said  he  would  ask  the  younger  boys, — 
'Who  is  willing  to  walk  in  the  company  of  a 
teacher,  to  be  his  companion  in  a  strange  town, 
to  cook  his  food,  and  to  help  teach  the  classes?' 
He  said  he  would  ask  the  younger  boys  that  ques- 
tion, and  I  thought  perhaps  you  would  promise 
to  go  with  me.    Did  he  ask?" 

"He  certainly  asked,"  said  Me  jo. 

"Did  you  promise?" 

"I  did  not,"  said  Mejo.  Then  after  a  while 
he  said,  "I  was  afraid.  I  thought — just  two  boys 
in  a  strange  town — how  do  we  know  what  thing 
the  people  of  that  town  will  do  to  us?  They 
promise  to  feed  us,  but  will  they  feed  us?  All 
this  rainy  season  I  have  just  sat  in  school.  Now 
the  dry  season  is  here  I  long  to  fish  and  hunt.  I 
long  to  camp  in  the  forest  with  our  own  people 
when  they  visit  the  dwarfs.  I  don't  want  to  teach 
school  in  vacation.    I  want  to  stay  at  home." 


28       AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"Don't  you  think  I  want  to  stay  at  home  too?" 
said  Assam. 

"Well,  then,  why  don't  you?" 

"Oh!  go  to  sleep!"  said  Assam.  "Some  things 
you  understand,  but  God  has  not  yet  opened  the 
eyes  of  your  heart!"  And  Assam  put  out  the 
lantern. 

Soon  two  school  boys  were  asleep  on  the  bam- 
boo bed.  Assam  owned  a  red  blanket,  together 
they  slept  under  that  blanket.  But  in  none 
of  the  other  houses  in  that  town  was  there  a 
blanket.  Fires  burned  beside  all  the  other  bam- 
boo beds,  and  now  and  again  through  the  night 
there  woke  beside  the  fires  that  burned  low  a 
sleepy  black  man  or  woman  who  mended  the  fire 
and  slept  again. 

How  quiet  the  night  was  in  that  little  village 
where  there  were  no  lamps ;  where  no  more  than 
twenty  thus  were  ranged  in  two  rows  with  a  clear- 
ing between  them  like  a  street.  At  either  end  of 
this  little  street  there  was  a  palaver  house  where 
the  "real  men"  of  the  village  lived.  And  about 
this  village,  all  built  of  the  bark  of  trees  and 
thatched  with  the  leaves  of  trees,  stood  the  trees 
Of  the  forest,  dripping  with  night  dews.     Some- 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO     29 

times  in  the  forest  a  bird  would  call.  Sometimes 
a  bigger  animal  would  make  a  crashing  in  the 
bush.  There  were  wild  cows  in  the  forests  of 
that  neighborhood,  and  leopards  and  elephants 
and  gorillas.  Often  at  night  a  leopard  would 
steal  a  sheep  of  that  village,  and  often  in  the  dead 
of  night  bands  of  monkeys  would  chatter  and 
play  in  the  trees  behind  the  little  brown  huts,  or 
in  the  moonlight  that  fell  upon  the  deserted  street. 

One  day  perhaps  a  week  later,  Andungo,  the 
mother  of  Me  jo,  was  coming  home  from  her  gar- 
den with  her  basket  on  her  back  and  a  great 
bunch  of  plantains  in  the  basket.  The  little  for- 
est path  was  brown  under  her  brown  feet,  the 
great  trunks  of  the  trees  were  gray  about  her 
brown  body,  and  above  her  were  the  millions  and 
millions  of  green  leaves  making  up  and  up  to  the 
roof  of  the  forest.  On  that  roof  bright  birds 
sunned  themselves,  and  there  were  the  flowers  of 
such  trees  as  bloomed.  On  the  roof  of  the  forest 
the  sun  shone,  but  down  where  Andungo  walked 
there  was  a  kind  of  gray  green  dusk — you  see,  it 
was  the  cellar  of  the  forest. 

Andungo,  Mejo's  mother,  was  studying  her 


30       AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

lessons  as  she  walked  alone.     She  was  saying  to 
herself : 

"This  must  be  the  second  hour,  because  Me  jo 
said  it  is  the  second  hour  when  women  begin  to 
return  from  their  gardens.  This  must  be  the  day 
that  is  Tuesday,  because  Tuesday  is  the  day  that 
is  two  days  after  Sunday — and  twice  have  I  slept 
on  my  bed  since  Sunday.  He !  the  great  day  that 
was  Sunday!  I  heard  the  school  boys  say  that 
there  were  seven  thousand  people  under  the  roof 
of  the  church  on  Sunday.  That  thing  that  is  a 
thousand  is  too  much  for  me  to  know, — women 
cannot  know  these  things — but  with  my  eyes  I 
saw  that  great  company ;  I  heard  that  great  shout- 
ing they  made  before  we  began  to  worship  God, 
and  I  heard  too  that  great  silence  when  we  began 
to  worship  God.  That  was  a  silence  like  the  si- 
lence that  is  the  ceasing  of  a  great  rain  upon  the 
roof — when  you  are  astonished  at  that  silence. 
And  I  heard  those  many  voices  singing  the  praise 
of  God.  I  wish  I  knew  all  the  words  of  that  song 
that  says : 

'God  is  loving, 
He  has  loved  me, 
God  is  loving, 
He  loves  me. 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    31 

I  tell  you  again, 
God  is  loving, 
God  is  loving, 
He  loves  me.' 

"More  of  that  song  I  wish  I  knew. 

"I  am  glad  I  found  those  nuts  of  the  wild  man- 
go tree  that  Me  jo  loves  to  eat.  I  will  roast  them 
in  the  fire  and  Mejo  shall  eat  them  all." 

But  Mejo  never  so  much  as  saw  those  mango 
nuts  with  his  eye,  because  when  Andungo  the 
mother  of  Mejo  ducked  down  to  enter  her  hut, 
two  little  brown  arms  were  thrown  about  her 
body — a  little  young  body  clung  to  hers.  That 
was  the  body  of  her  girl  Asala.  Her  girl  Asala 
was  crying  out, — 

"Ah,  mother,  I  have  come!  Ah,  mother,  they 
have  permitted  me  to  visit  you!  Ah,  mother,  the 
many  nights  I  lay  upon  my  bed  and  longed  for 
my  mother !  Sometimes  when  I  slept  you  entered 
my  head  at  night.  That  dream  was  so  quick  to 
pass.  Now  I  see  you  with  my  eyes;  I  touch  you 
with  my  hands!    Tell  me  all  the  news!" 

That  is  why  Mejo  never  saw  the  mango  nuts — 
his  little  sister  ate  them  while  she  answered  her 
mother's  many  questions. 


32        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"That  is  a  new  way  they  dress  your  hair  now," 
said  Andungo. 

"Yes — it  is  the  dressing  that  they  dress  the  hair 
of  girls  in  the  town  of  my  marriage,"  said  Asala. 

She  was  perhaps  twelve  years  old;  she  wore  a 
little  apron  of  green  leaves  and  this  was  attached 
to  a  belt  of  leopard's  skin.  She  wore  besides  a 
bushy  little  tail  of  dried  grasses.  About  her  neck 
was  a  necklace  of  dog's  teeth  strung  on  one  of 
the  strong  black  hairs  of  an  elephant's  tail.  Just 
below  the  knee  of  her  right  leg  she  had  tied  a 
narrow  ribbon  of  a  bright  green  grass  and  an- 
other such  a  green  ribbon  was  tied  about  her 
forehead.  These  bands  of  green  were  very  pretty 
on  her  brown  body.  Her  feet  and  hands  were 
dainty.  This  little  brown  girl  was  like  the  small 
gazelles  that  run  in  the  forests.  When  her 
mother  looked  at  her  she  thought — "How  beau- 
tiful she  is!" 

"Do  they  say  that  you  are  beautiful  in  the 
town  of  your  marriage?" 

"They  say  I  would  be  beautiful  if  I  were  tat- 
tooed," said  Asala.  "  'Why  did  not  your  father 
have  you  tattooed?'  they  ask.  'You  look  so 
strange  without  any  marks  upon  your  body.' 


Her  nose  ring  is  made  of  blue  beads. 


*  Bl  "■ 


THE    HUNTER  S    CAMP 

The  missionaries  often  go  out  into  the  jungle 
to   hunt    antelopes   and    small    game    for    food 


THE  WHITE  MAN"  S  CARAVAN 


The  forests  of  Africa  are  so  tangled  that  it  is 
sometimes  impossible  to  find  a  trail,  and  the 
easiest  way  is  to  go  down  the  bed  of  a  stream. 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO     33 

Then  I  feel  shame  in  my  heart.  All  the  others 
are  tattooed.  Sometimes  I  make  a  paint  of  char- 
coal and  the  gum  of  a  tree,  and  with  that  I  make 
marks  upon  my  body — but  not  very  well.  I  am 
too  stupid  to  make  good  marks." 

"You  should  tell  them  the  truth,"  said  ner 
mother.  "Say  that  you  are  the  child  of  a  Chris- 
tian woman  who  knows  that  God  made  your 
body  as  it  pleased  Him  to  make  it,  and  that  it  is 
forbidden  to  spoil  that  body  He  made  with  knives 
and  the  things  of  tattoo.  You  should  tell  them 
that." 

"Oh !  I  do  tell  them  that  you  are  a  Christian," 
said  Asala,  "I  tell  them  that  more  than  anything. 
All  the  wives  of  my  husband  speak  to  me  of  that 
thing — that  my  mother  is  a  Christian.  Women 
come  from  across  the  river  to  ask  me  questions  of 
my  mother  that  is  a  Christian.  The  women  of 
our  neighborhood  are  always  asking  me, — 'how 
do  the  people  of  the  tribe  of  God  do  this  thing 
and  that  thing?  Tell  us  about  the  rules  of  the 
tribe  of  God.  Tell  us  about  that  Jesus,  Son  of 
God.'  Those  questions  they  are  always  asking 
me. 

"I  hope  you  are  wise  to  answer." 


34        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"I  answer  as  I  am  able,"  said  Asala.  "Some 
questions  it  is  hard  to  answer.  Now  that  wife  of 
my  husband  in  whose  house  I  live  begins  to  pray." 

"Thanks  to  God,"  cried  Andungo,  "now  she 
will  be  good  to  you!" 

"I  tell  you  a  true  word,"  said  Asala,  "she  was 
always  good  to  me.  Yes,  from  the  very  first 
day  that  I  went  a  stranger  into  that  town,  walk- 
ing before  my  husband  with  my  hands  clasped 
upon  my  head  and  tears  running  from  my  eyes — 
from  that  day  she  was  good  to  me.  She  tells  me 
always  that  I  am  like  a  child  of  her  own.  She 
never  had  a  child  but  me !" 

"When  I  came  to  my  marriage  it  was  not  so," 
said  Andungo.  "Your  father  put  me  in  the  house 
of  Eda;  she  is  dead  now.  She  had  a  bad  heart, 
that  woman,  and  I  too,  I  had  a  bad  heart.  Under 
that  roof  that  covered  two  bad  hearts  what  quar- 
rels we  made !  She  was  big  and  I  was  little — she 
always  won!  But  the  thing  you  tell  me  of  that 
woman  in  whose  house  you  live  is  a  good  word. 
I  will  send  her  a  present  when  you  go  back  and 
as  many  of  the  words  of  God  as  I  can  teach  you. 
How  is  it  that  your  husband  permitted  you  to 
leave  his  town?" 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    35 

"It  was  because  of  you,  mother.  Because  of 
the  news  my  father  gave  my  husband  of  you. 

"  'Asala's  mother  is  a  Christian,  a  member  of 
that  new  tribe  that  is  growing  in  the  forest' — 
my  father  told  my  husband,  and  that  a  Christian 
must  keep  her  word,  and  that  you  would  drive  me 
back  to  my  husband's  town  because  you  were. a 
Christian. 

"  'You  can  trust  that  word,'  said  my  father. 

"  'Strange  thing!'  said  my  husband. 

"  'Those  women  of  mine  who  are  Christians  do 
not  run  away,'  said  my  father. 

"  'Strange  thing!'  said  my  husband. 

"Then  he  said  to  me, — 'If  I  permit  you  to  visit 
your  mother  for  one  moon  do  you  swear  by  the 
dead  that  you  will  return?' 

"Then  I  said  to  my  husband, — 'Not  by  the 
dead  do  I  swear;  but  by  the  living  God.' 

"  'Is  that  a  good  oath?'  asked  my  husband,  and 
my  father  said  that  it  was  a  strong  promise. 

"Then  my  husband  said,  'If  I  let  you  go  I  do 
not  let  you  go  free.  I  tie  you  with  this  tying 1 — 
that  when  this  moon  that  is  making  is  lost  and  the 
morning  after  the  making  of  the  next  moon,  you 

1  To  be  tied  is  to  be  bound  to  do  a  certain  thing. 


36        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

must  leave  your  father's  town;  your  father  will 
show  you  the  path  back  to  my  town.  And  when 
you  return  you  must  have  a  word  from  the  white 
man.  It  would  be  well  to  have  that  word  written 
in  a  book,  for  I  see  that  all  the  white  people  make 
their  strong  words  in  a  book.  And  the  word  I 
want  is  a  promise.  That  white  man  must  send 
us  a  teacher.  He  must  promise  to  send  us  a 
teacher.  All  the  news  I  hear  of  these  things  that 
are  the  things  of  God  make  my  heart  desire  them. 
I  sit  in  my  palaver  house  in  ignorance.  Tell  the 
white  man  that  Efa,  the  headman  of  Mekok, 
would  learn  of  the  things  of  God.  Do  you  prom- 
ise to  tell  to  the  white  man  this  word?' 

"  'I  promise,'  I  said  to  my  husband.  So  he  let 
me  come.  Ah,  mother,  such  joy  in  my  heart! 
It  fills  my  heart  full. — Where  are  all  the  girls?" 

"They  are  fishing,  and  there  on  the  wall  is 
your  own  little  net." 

Asala's  little  net  was  of  a  knotted  cord  strung 
to  a  hoop  of  twigs.  She  hung  the  circle  of  it  on 
her  shoulder  and  went  away  in  the  great  sun- 
light. She  knew  the  old  path  to  the  river.  When 
she  came  to  the  river  bank  she  saw  all  the  girls 
of  the  village  playing  in  the  brown  water.   There 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    37 

were  the  little  girl-wives  of  her  father,  and  the 
girls  born  in  the  town  and  not  married  yet.  They 
ran  up  the  bank  to  greet  her,  all  wet  with  bright 
water. 

"Asala  has  come  home!"  they  cried.  "How 
she  has  grown  and  her  hair  is  dressed  a  new  way ! 
Ah,  Asala,  did  you  run  away  from  your  marriage 
that  we  see  you  with  our  eyes  again?  Ah,  Asala, 
here  is  a  new  girl  that  you  do  not  know — she  is 
from  the  neighborhood  of  your  husband's  town — 
she  asks  news  of  her  mother,  of  her  brother.  Ah, 
Asala,  tonight  when  we  dance  you  will  teach  us 
new  dances  that  you  learned  in  that  far  country!" 

It  was  four  weeks  later  that  Andungo,  the 
mother  of  Me  jo,  said  to  her  husband: 

"Some  days  run  too  fast.  Some  days  .are  as 
slow  as  a  chameleon  and  some  run  like  gazelles. 
Now  there  are  only  two  days  before  Asala  must 
go  back  to  her  husband's  town." 

The  parents  of  Me  jo  were  sitting  in  the  big 
palaver  house  at  the  end  of  the  street.  Akulu, 
the  father  of  Me  jo,  was  busy  making  a  box  of  the 
bark  of  a  tree.  He  was  making  this  box  very 
carefully,  sewing  it  together  with  a  rattan  thread. 
When  it  was  done  he  meant  to  put  some  precious 


38        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

bones  in  the  box — bones  that  were  fetish.  He 
hoped  that  when  he  made  a  charm  with  these 
bones  certain  desirable  things  would  come  to 
pass.  He  had  a  good  many  worries  about  his 
town,  and  about  some  evil  spirits  that  were  troub- 
ling the  people  of  his  town,  and  so  he  was  trying 
to  make  a  strong  new  "medicine"  against  those 
evil  spirits.  This  is  why  he  was  so  busy  sewing 
away  at  his  bark  box.  Andungo  had  brought 
him  a  little  cake  of  mashed  plantain  and  a  little 
peanut  paste  in  a  green  leaf.  They  were  alone 
in  the  palaver  house,  and  she  told  him  how  sorry 
she  was  because  Asala's  visit  was  almost  all  run 
away. 

"That  thing  is  easy,"  said  Akulu.    "Keep  her." 

"Keep  her!"  cried  out  Andungo.  "How  can  I 
keep  her?  She  gave  the  promise  of  a  Christian 
that  she  would  return!" 

"You  Christians  are  hard-hearted,"  said  Aku- 
lu,— "to  drive  a  child  away  like  that." 

"Am  I  driving  her?  Not  I!  It  is  herself. 
Last  night,  when  we  saw  the  new  moon  and  all 
the  children  in  the  village  cried  out, 

"  'The  new  moon  is  made! 

"  'The  new  moon  is  made!' 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    39 

"Then  Asala  came  away  from  the  other  girls 
where  they  were  dancing.  She  sat  by  me  in  the 
hut.  In  the  dark  I  could  hear  her  cry.  And  she 
said,  'Ah,  mother,  when  we  see  the  new  moon  two 
nights  then  in  the  morning  I  must  rise  and  go  to 
my  husband's  town.  Because  that  was  the  time 
I  promised.    And  I  am  a  Christian.' ' 

"Such  a  little  Christian,"  said  Akulu.  "Surely 
they  will  never  believe  the  word  of  such  a  little 
Christian!  They  will  say, — her  heart  is  the 
heart  of  a  child,  and  she  lingers  by  her  mother's 
side.    There  can  be  no  harm  in  that!" 

"Little  or  big,"  said  Andungo,  "she  is  all  the 
Christian  the  people  of  that  town  know.  And 
she  must  show  them  the  path.  They  all  take  ex- 
ample by  her.    She  must  go." 

"But  if  I  say  that  I  am  not  ready  to  go  with 
her?  Here  I  am  these  days,  trying  to  make  a 
new  medicine  charm  for  my  son  Ze  who  grows  so 
thin.  What  if  I  say  that  I  cannot  leave  my  town 
now?    How  will  she  keep  her  promise?" 

"We  thought  of  that,"  said  Andungo.  "Then 
Assam  will  go  to  show  her  the  path." 

"But  he  is  in  school!" 


40        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"Even  so,  he  will  beg  the  teacher  to  let  him  go, 
that  the  Christians  may  keep  their  promises." 

"Such  persistence!"  said  Akulu. 

The  next  morning  when  Me  jo  sat  in  school,  he 
saw  a  woman  and  a  girl  come  in.  "There  is  my 
mother  and  my  sister,"  he  thought.  He  felt  sur- 
prised and  uncomfortable.  "Now  they  will  do 
something  stupid,"  he  thought,  "and  I  will  feel 
shame!" 

The  school  house  was  a  great  roof  thatched 
with  leaves,  over  rows  and  rows  of  seats  and  desks 
rough  hewn  from  the  logs  of  the  forest.  The 
walls  of  the  schools  were  of  bark — and  so  low  that 
a  boy  might  sit  in  his  seat  and  look  off  into  the 
forest.  Under  that  great  roof  there  was  a  mur- 
mur of  many  voices,  for  there  were  four  hundred 
boys  in  this  school.  This  was  the  lower  school, 
the  upper  school  was  near  by.  At  the  end  of  the 
school  a  white  man  sat  at  a  table  on  a  platform, 
and  here  and  there,  among  the  pupils,  the  pupil- 
teachers  stood  before  their  classes.  There  were 
thirty  young  black  boys  teaching  in  that  school. 

Andungo  and  Asala  came  in  by  the  little 
breach  in  the  wall.  Outside  the  sunlight  was  too 
bright  and  too  hot,  for  it  was  near  noon,  but  in 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO     41 

the  school  there  was  a  cool  shade.  Andungo  and 
Asala  felt  strange  when  they  stepped  into  that 
shadow  crowded  with  the  bodies  of  wise  young 
men  and  boys.  They  stood  together  near  the 
wall  and  whispered. 

"I  fear!  and  I  feel  shame,"  said  Asala. 

"I  too,"  said  her  mother.  "Let  us  go,  they 
may  laugh  at  us." 

"Only  the  promise  that  I  promised  is  able  to 
force  me,"  said  Asala. 

"Come,  then,  we  will  do  quickly,"  said  her 
mother,  and  they  went  on  up  to  the  platform. 

"Ah,  teacher  of  men!"  said  Andungo. 

The  white  man  looked  up  from  a  great  book 
he  was  writing. 

"I  greet  you,  mother  of  Mejo,"  said  he. 

"This  little  girl  is  my  daughter ;  she  is  in  a  far 
marriage  and  she  makes  us  a  visit.  She  has  a 
word  to  say  to  you." 

"Such  impudence,"  thought  Mejo,  who  was 
watching  from  his  seat  and  feeling  shame.  He 
could  see  a  little  red  feather  in  Asala 's  hair  and 
that  little  feather  trembled;  his  heart  softened. 
"She  fears,"  he  thought,  and  he  pitied  her. 

"It  is  because  of  a  promise  I  made  my  husband 


42        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

that  I  have  come,"  said  Asala,  and  her  voice 
trembled  like  the  feather  in  her  hair.  "I  prom- 
ised him  that  I  would  beg  the  white  man  to  send 
a  teacher  to  the  village  of  Mekok.  The  people  of 
Mekok  desire  to  learn  the  things  of  God.  They 
desire  to  read  the  book  of  the  words  of  God." 

"Who  is  the  headman  of  the  village  of  Mekok?" 

"My  husband  is  the  headman.  His  name  is 
Efa." 

It  was  very  quiet  in  the  school  now  because  all 
the  boys  and  all  the  teachers  were  listening. 
Asala  clung  to  the  edge  of  the  white  man's  table 
and  he  saw  her  little  brown  face  looking  at  him 
over  the  edge. 

"Will  the  people  of  Mekok  pay  the  teacher  if 
I   send  him?" 

"My  husband  says  that  he  knows  the  custom 
of  paying  the  teacher,  and  the  people  of  the  town 
will  certainly  pay  the  teacher." 

"Will  the  women  of  the  town  feed  the  teacher 
every  day?" 

"Every  day  they  will  feed  the  teacher.  He 
shall  not  be  hungry  a  single  day." 

"Will  the  boys  and  young  men  of  the  town 
build  the  school  house?" 


THE  FAMILY  OF  AKULU  MEJO    43 

"They  will !  Already  they  are  cutting  bark  for 
the  walls  and  hunting  leaves  for  the  thatch.  All 
these  things  are  understood  by  my  husband  as 
the  custom  of  the  tribe  of  God." 

"Are  there  so  few  Christians  in  your  husband's 
town  that  a  little  girl  must  bring  this  great  mes- 
sage?" 

"There  is  no  Christian  but  me.  I  alone  am  a 
Christian  in  that  town." 

"Then  it  is  from  your  mouth  that  your  husband 
and  the  women  of  his  town  have  learned  this  news 
of  the  things  of  school  and  of  the  custom  of  the 
tribe  of  God.    I  hear." 

And  the  white  man  took  counsel  with  himself. 

"Will  not  you  yourself  come  to  school  with  us? 
There  is  a  white  woman  who  cares  for  girls  like 
you  and  teaches  them  the  things  of  women  who 
are  women  of  God.  Does  not  your  heart  draw 
you  to  come  and  be  with  her?" 

The  white  man  saw  tears  soften  those  brilliant 
eyes. 

"To-morrow  I  return  to  my  husband.  I  made 
a  promise,"  said  Asala. 

"You  are  a  good  little  girl,"  said  the  white 
man,  suddenly,  "you  must  keep  your  promise. 


44        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Tell  your  husband  that  I  received  his  great  mes- 
sage from  your  mouth,  and  that  I  promise  a 
teacher  for  the  village  of  Mekok.  I  will  write 
this  word  in  a  book.  I  am  a  'real  man'  and  I  will 
keep  my  promise.  He  too  is  a  real  man  and  must 
keep  his  promise  to  pay  and  to  feed  and  to  build. 
You  may  go  now.    As  you  go — God  keep  you." 

Me  jo  watched  his  mother  and  his  sister  go 
away.    "She  is  brave,"  he  thought. 

The  next  morning  Asala  left  for  her  husband's 
town.  Her  father  went  with  her.  And  that 
night  Me  jo  said  to  his  brother  Assam, — 

"I  wonder  to  see  Asala  so  brave." 

"It  is  the  power  of  God,"  said  Assam. 

"Will  they  send  a  teacher  as  they  promised?" 

"They  certainly  will,"  said  Assam. 

"Are  you  sure?  Have  they  chosen  that 
teacher?" 

"They  have,"  said  Assam,  "and  I  am  that 
teacher."    And  he  put  out  the  light. 

"There  go  my  brother  and  my  sister,"  thought 
Me  jo  as  he  lay  beside  his  brother  in  the  dark, 
"together  they  walk  the  new  path  that  is  the  path 
of  God.  They  certainly  have  a  peculiar  cour- 
age!"   And  he  sighed. 


CHAPTER  II:     WHITE  MEN  AND  THEIR  AD- 
VENTURES 


CHAPTER  II:  WHITE  MEN  AND  THEIR  ADVEN- 
TURES 

IT  was  a  dark  night — "the  moon  was  lost,"  as 
the  forest  people  say, — and  the  people  of 
Akulu's  village  were  sitting  about  the  fires  in  the 
palaver  house.  There  had  been  an  elephant  hunt 
that  day, — Akulu  had  made  a  strong  medicine 
for  the  hunt  and  yet  the  elephant  had  got  away. 
"That  is  because  all  my  strong  young  men  are 
in  school,"  said  Akulu,  who  was  in  bad  humor. 
"They  are  followers  of  the  white  man — my  boys 
and  my  men — their  old  father  goes  to  the  hunt 
unattended.  Soon  the  men  of  our  clan  will  give 
me  a  new  nickname,  they  will  call  me — 

'You  walk  alone !    Where  are  your  brothers  V  ' 
"When  they  beat  my  nickname  on  a  drum  that 
is  the  name  they  will  beat — 

'You  walk  alone !    Where  are  your  brothers  V  ' 
The  young  sons  of  Akulu  sat  together  in  a 
little  group  peeling  and  eating  sugar  cane.    One 
of  the  older  boys  said : 

"Some  boys  took  new  names  to-day.     Mr. 

47 


48        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Krug  told  us  stories  of  brave  men,  and  some  boys 
said  that  they  would  name  themselves  for  those 
brave  men." 

"Were  those  brave  men  white  men  or  black 
men?"  asked  Akulu. 

"They  were  white  men,"  said  Assam. 

"What  kind  of  bravery  was  their  bravery?" 
asked  Akulu.  "Were  they  brave  hunters  or 
brave  fighters?    Tell  me  about  that  bravery!" 

"It  was  not  a  bravery  of  hunting  or  of  fighting, 
— it  was  a  bravery  of  walking  alone  in  a  strange 
country  among  strangers  and  enemies.  They 
were  makers  of  roads  in  the  forest.  In  canoes 
they  followed  strange  rivers.  Alone  they  ap- 
proached great  and  angry  headmen.  Every  one 
of  these  brave  men  might  say  his  nickname  was — 

'You  walk  alone!  Where  are  your  broth- 
ersf 

At  this  moment,  Akulu  rose  and  went  out  into 
the  dark,  where  his  call  drum  lay  under  the  eaves 
of  the  house.  Presently  he  drummed  the  call  to 
his  neighbors.  Akulu  was  a  great  drummer ;  far, 
far  away  in  the  forest  the  murmur  of  his  drum- 
ming was  heard  by  other  headmen  sitting  by  their 
own  fires.     "That  is  a  call  from  the  town  of 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    49 

Akulu  Mejo,"  they  said;  and  those  men  whose 
villages  were  neighbor  to  his  rose  to  answer  the 
call  from  Akulu. 

He  came  back  into  the  palaver  house  and  sat 
down. 

"Go  on,"  said  he  to  Assam,  "this  talk  that  you 
talk  is  a  real  word.  It  is  well  that  other  men 
should  hear  this  talk  about  brave  men.  What 
were  they  hunting, — these  brave  white  men? 
Ivory,  was  it,  or  rubber?  What  goods  did  they 
carry?  Were  they  traders?  Tell  us  news  of 
them." 

"One  of  them  was  Ngutu,"  1  said  Assam. 

"He  ye  e!"  cried  out  Akulu.  "He  was  my 
friend!  Yes,  I  agree  that  he  was  brave.  That 
coming  that  he  came  to  us  when  I  was  a  young 
man  like  one  of  you — that  was  a  brave  coming. 
Alone  he  came,  as  you  say.  Ten  black  men  of 
the  beach  tribes  walked  in  his  company.  His 
first  appearing  was  in  the  town  of  Abiete.  All 
night  and  all  day  of  the  days  that  he  slept  in 
Abiete  the  drums  of  Abiete  were  busy  with  the 


1  Ngutu  is  the  native  name  of  Adolphus  C.  Good,  a  member  of 
the  Presbyterian  Mission  in  West  Africa.  He  opened  up  the  Bulu 
interior,  and  died  in  that  country.  He  is  still  remembered  by  the 
Bulu.  His  only  son,  who  is  now  grown,  is  at  work  among  the 
tribes  of  that  forest. 


50        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

news.  All  those  days  the  people  of  the  forest 
were  running  to  the  town  of  Abiete  to  see  the 
white  man.  Strange  word  of  him  we  heard.  His 
hair  is  like  a  monkey's  hair,  we  heard ;  his  face  is 
not  like  our  faces.  He  does  not  dress  his  hair; 
he  wears  a  thing  on  his  head  that  he  takes  off  in 
the  house.  Then,  when  he  goes  on  the  path,  he 
puts  that  thing  on  his  head  again.  His  voice  is 
kind,  his  manner  is  kind.  You  don't  see  his  body 
at  all ;  it  is  covered.  The  thing  he  has  come  to  do 
we  do  not  yet  know,  but  he  says  many  words 
about  'Zambe — He  who  created  us.'  But  we  do 
not  yet  know  truly  of  the  thing  he  has  come  to 
do.    This  is  the  news  we  heard  of  him." 

Some  of  Akulu's  neighbors  were  coming  in  out 
of  the  night.  They  carried  reed  torches,  and 
these  they  beat  out  upon  the  floor.  To  them 
Akulu  said: 

"You  who  are  'real  men,'  do  you  remember  the 
days  of  our  youth  when  Ngutu  came  to  our  coun- 
try?" 

"We  certainly  remember." 

"It  is  of  those  days  that  we  are  speaking  now. 
My  father  was  then  headman  of  a  town  near 
Abiete.     He  had  many  sons — some  older  than 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    51 

I — all  brave  young  men.  And  he  had  brothers 
younger  than  he — all  brave  men.  In  those  days 
we  all  carried  guns.  Those  were  good  days  be- 
fore there  came  a  white  governor  to  take  away 
our  guns.  Now  a  man  is  only  half  a  man  because 
he  has  no  gun.  A  young  man  of  my  time  was  of 
a  peculiar  beauty — so  brave  he  was!" 

"You  say  a  true  word,  Akulu!"  cried  out  an 
old  man,  who  warmed  his  hands  at  the  fire.  "In 
those  days  we  were  as  beautiful  as  leopards.  The 
villagers  of  a  strange  village  trembled  when  we 
passed  upon  the  path ;  they  hid  themselves  in  the 
forest,  leaving  their  houses  empty  and  open." 

"How  true!"  sighed  one. 

"The  good  days  of  the  past!"  sighed  another. 

"I  long  for  those  days,"  sighed  a  third. 

"I  dream  of  a  gun  in  a  dream  that  comes  into 
my  head  at  night!" 

"Well,  it  was  so,  as  you  say.  In  your  youth  we 
were  beautiful  and  we  carried  guns.  So  my 
father  said  to  us  all : — 

"  'When  the  white  man  passes  through  our 
town  we  will  beg  him  to  sleep  in  our  town.  And 
when  his  carriers  have  laid  their  loads  upon  the 
ground,  we  will  just  steal  those  loads.    That  will 


52        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

be  easy.  The  goods  in  those  loads  are  all  fine 
goods — beads  for  our  head-dresses,  yellow  wire 
to  make  bracelets,  strange  cloth  that  is  not  made 
of  beaten  bark  like  our  cloth,  and  bundles  of 
wonderful  little  sticks  *  for  making  fire.  It  is  his 
custom  to  give  some  little  portion  of  this  goods 
to  the  men  who  befriend  him — but  it  will  be  easy 
for  us  to  take  it  all.' 

"This  was  how  we  took  counsel  together,  and 
this  was  our  plan. 

"The  day  he  came  to  our  town  was  a  day  of  the 
dry  season.  He  came  in  the  late  afternoon,  from 
the  direction  of  the  setting  of  the  sun.  Many  of 
our  neighbors  walked  in  his  company,  laughing 
and  talking  and  making  a  great  noise.  He  did 
not  laugh  or  talk.  He  walked  like  a  man  who 
is  worn  out.  I  saw  him  with  great  surprise.  I 
called  out  with  the  others, — 'He  ye  e!  His  hair 
is  like  the  hair  of  a  monkey!  The  strange  thing 
on  his  head!'  I  was  so  surprised  to  see  a  white 
man.  He  came  into  the  palaver  house  where 
my  father  sat.  His  carriers  put  their  loads  down 
in  the  street,  they  came  into  the  palaver  house. 
He  took  the  thing  off  his  head.     He  gave  my 

1  Matches. 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    53 

father  a  greeting,  and  he  gave  us  all  a  greeting — 
like  a  brother.  He  spoke  our  tongue,  but  in  a 
way  to  make  us  laugh.  He  spoke  like  the  tribes 
across  the  Ntem  river.  You  know  the  way  we 
always  laugh  at  the  talk  of  the  tribes  across  the 
Ntem?" 

"We  certainly  laugh!"  said  young  and  old,  and 
they  laughed. 

"Well,  so  we  laughed  on  that  day  of  the  past 
when  Ngutu  first  spoke  to  us.  We  all  stood  up 
in  the  palaver  house,  beautiful  with  our  guns  and 
fierce  with  the  fierceness  of  strong  young  men. 
We  said  to  my  father: — 

"  'Let  us  go  now  to  steal  the  loads — there  they 
are  on  the  ground !  His  carriers  have  no  guns — 
it  will  be  easy  to  steal  the  loads.' 

"Ngutu  heard  us  say  this,  and  the  carriers 
heard.  They  feared  greatly — those  carriers. 
Some  rose  to  run  away ;  but  Ngutu  said  to  them, 
'Sit  down!' 

"To  my  father  he  said  he  was  weary.  This 
much  talking  made  him  very  weary.  And  he 
said  he  was  thirsty.  He  begged  for  a  drink  of 
water.  My  father  sent  a  little  girl  to  the  spring. 
He  looked  at  Ngutu  a  long  time.    Ngutu  looked 


54        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

at  him.  We  still  spoke  of  the  goods  in  the  load. 
Ngutu  drank  the  water  from  the  spring.  And 
suddenly  my  father  said: — 

"  'This  white  man  fears  nothing.  He  must 
have  a  strong  fetish  that  protects  him.  We  do 
not  understand  white  men  and  their  medicine. 
Let  us  be  wise  and  treat  him  with  kindness,  or 
evil  may  come  upon  us  and  upon  our  villages.' 

"Then  all  the  young  men  put  their  guns  down. 
We  were  disappointed,  but  we  respected  the  voice 
of  my  father  and  we  respected  the  bravery  of 
Ngutu.  This  time  that  I  tell  you  was  my  first 
sight  of  Ngutu.  He  was  not  yet  my  friend. 
That  night  by  the  light  of  the  palaver  house  fire 
he  told  us  first  the  news  of  Jesus,  the  son  of 
Zambe  1 — He  who  created  us.  He  told  us  how 
the  son  of  Zambe  redeemed  us, — because  we  were 
forgetful  of  Zambe  and  had  broken  the  great  law 
of  Him-who-created-us.  That  was  the  first  time 
I  ever  heard  of  the  tribe  of  God,  that  is  now  so 
strong  in  this  country.  My  own  sons  honor  the 
things  of  the  tribe  of  God  more  than  the  things 
of  the  tribe  of  their  fathers." 

"Not  the  young  only,"  said  Oton, — a  big  man 

1  Zambe  is  the  Bum  name  for  the  Creator  of  men. 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    55 

who  was  an  elder  in  the  church.  "Many  'real 
men'  are  Christians  and  they  pray  for  you  every 
day,  Akulu." 

"Yes,  and  we  pray  for  you,"  said  Assam. 

"Even  so,"  said  Akulu,  "I  am  not  a  Christian. 
It  is  too  much  trouble  to  be  a  Christian.  That 
was  always  the  argument  I  used  to  make  to 
Ngutu,  when  he  spoke  to  me  of  the  tribe  of  God. 
Yet  I  was  a  friend  of  Ngutu.  My  eldest  son 
was  born  the  day  after  Ngutu  was  put  in  his 
grave  on  Efulen  hill.  That  was  my  son  Ngutu, 
who  was  a  Christian  when  he  was  a  lad,  and  he 
died.  The  Christians  made  me  bury  that  boy 
without  any  of  the  dances  of  mourning  or  the 
proper  charms  for  the  spirits  of  the  dead.  They 
say  he  sits  down  in  the  town  of  God.  Who 
knows?" 

"I  know,"  cried  out  the  mother  of  the  boy 
Ngutu.    "And  the  path  to  that  town  I  know." 

"Be  still!"  said  Akulu,  "there  is  more  news  to 
hear.  Assam  will  tell  me  news  of  those  brave 
white  men — they  that  were  spoken  of  in  school 
to-day." 

"There  were  many,"  said  Assam.  "There  was 
a  great  one  named  Livingstone.    Mr.  Krug  told 


56        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

us  that  among  all  the  sons  of  the  white  man  none 
exceeds  that  man  for  bravery." 

"Where  does  he  have  his  town — that  man  Liv- 
ingstone?" asked  Akulu. 

"He  is  dead  now.  He  died  when  Mr.  Krug 
was  a  baby." 

"That  would  be  a  long  time  ago,"  said  Akulu. 
"What  great  deed  did  this  man  do  that  he  lives 
so  long  in  the  memory  of  his  tribe?  Tell  me  that 
thing  he  did.    Was  he  a  son  of  the  English?" 

"He  was  a  son  of  the  Scotch — and  that  is  a 
tribe  I  do  not  know,  but  brother  to  the  English." 

"Was  he  a  son  of  a  chief?" 

"He  was  not.  The  people  of  his  father's  house 
worked  with  their  hands — they  were  weavers  of 
cloth — the  cloth  of  the  white  man.  Himself  he 
made  cloth  until  God  called  him  to  do  the  work 
of  the  tribe  of  God.  Then  he  studied  many 
things  in  books.    He  studied  medicine." 

"It  is  a  strange  thing,"  said  Akulu,  "how 
these  people  of  the  tribe  of  God  must  always  be 
studying  in  books.  Now  there  is  Ze,  who  is 
headman  in  Yefuzok.  I  saw  him  with  my  own 
eyes  sitting  with  a  book  on  his  knees  and  a  school 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN;    57 

boy  was  teaching  him  the  things  that  are  in  the 
book.    I  said  to  him : — 

'  'Ah,  Ze  Zom,  I  feel  shame  to  see  a  headman 
learning  of  a  child.  You  are  a  headman,  like 
myself.'  But  he  just  laughed.  He  said,  'It  is 
true  that  you  see  me  with  your  eyes  for  a  head- 
man, but  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  Jesus  I  am  a 
servant.  So  I  humble  myself  that  I  may  read 
the  law  of  the  tribe  of  God  in  a  book.  Sit  down/ 
Ze  said  to  me,  'until  I  finish  my  task.' 

"And  then  I  heard  him  say  like  a  sheep,  'B-a- 
Ba!'    And  like  a  frog  he  said,  'B-o-Bo!'  " 

Akulu  laughed  and  everybody  laughed. 

"About  Livingstone," *  said  Assam.  "He 
studied  medicine." 

"Was  he  a  great  doctor  in  his  own  town?" 
asked  Akulu,  "and  a  maker  of  Magic?" 

"He  was  not.  The  great  deeds  he  did  were  not 
done  in  his  own  town,  but  in  the  country  of  the 
black  people.  This  country  that  the  white  peo- 
ple call  Africa." 

"Livingstone!"  said  Akulu.     "Now  that  is  a 


1  Boys  and  girls  of  Livingstone's  own  tribe  will  want  to  know 
more  about  him  than  Assam  was  able  to  tell  the  black  men  in 
Akulu's  palaver  house.  They  will  find  it  in  "Livingstone,  the 
Pathfinder,"  by  Basil  Mathews. 


58        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

strange  thing.  I  do  not  know  that  name.  Did 
you  ever  hear  in  our  country  of  a  white  man  by 
that  name?" 

Akulu  looked  around  the  palaver  house,  where 
the  fire  lit  the  faces  of  his  friends. 

"I  hear  that  name  for  the  first  time  to-night," 
said  one  and  another.  "This  is  a  white  man's 
fable  that  you  tell  us.  We  keep  in  our  hearts 
the  names  of  all  the  white  men  we  have  ever 
seen!" 

"Not  a  fable,"  said  Assam,  "but  a  thing  of  dis- 
tance. All  the  great  deeds  of  Livingstone  and 
his  great  walking  were  beyond  the  Ntem  river 
and  beyond  the  Congo. 

"Stop,  boy!"  said  Oton,  the  elder.  "The  Ntem 
river  we  know — do  not  we  fight  with  the  tribes 
beyond  that  river?  But  this  river  you  call  the 
Congo — is  that  a  real  river?" 

"It  is  a  real  river.  The  tribes  who  live  on  that 
river  see  it  every  day.  It  is  a  great  river.  Our 
country  of  Africa  is  a  great  country — more  than 
we  black  people  know.    Mr.  Krug  says  so." 

"Mr.  Krug!"  cried  out  Akulu — "some  day  Mr. 
Krug  will  want  to  tell  me  how  many  wives  I 
have  and  how  many  children.     Has  Mr.  Krug 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    59 

seen  all  this  great  country  that  he  can  give  us  so 
much  news?" 

"Not  himself.  He  has  not  seen  the  country 
that  Livingstone  saw;  but  he  has  read  the  book 
Livingstone  wrote — all  white  men  read  that  book 
and  believe  it.  In  the  book  are  written  those 
things  that  Livingstone  saw  on  his  great  walks." 

"Was  he  a  great  walker?"  asked  Akulu. 

"He  was  the  best.  Even  Ze  Zom,  who  walks 
so  well,  cannot  have  walked  more  than  Living- 
stone." 

"It  is  hard  to  believe  that,"  said  Oton — "you 
know  that  Ze  Zom  has  this  nickname — 

'  'If  the  sun  sets  I  will  walk  by  moonlight — 
I  will  walk  by  moonlight.'  Let  me  tell  you  about 
the  walks  of  Ze." 

"No,"  said  Akulu, — "this  is  a  night  to  listen 
to  the  walks  of  Livingstone.  Where  did  those 
walks  begin?" 

"They  began  very  far  from  here  on  the  beach. 
But  not  the  beach  we  know.  If  you  stand  with 
the  place  where  the  sun  rises  on  your  left  hand 
and  the  place  of  the  setting  on  your  right  hand, 
then  the  place  toward  which  you  turn  your  face  is 
the  South." 


60       AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"The  South!  another  thing  of  the  white  man!" 

"Yes.  And  if  you  walk  many  seasons — rainy 
and  dry  seasons — then  you  come  to  that  beach 
where  Livingstone  began  to  walk.  That  place 
is  called  Capetown." 

"Show  us  on  the  ground  the  things  of  that 
white  man's  walk." 

Assam  took  some  strippings  of  sugar  cane  in 
his  hand.    One  he  laid  on  the  ground  and  said : — 

"This  is  the  beach  we  know  at  Kribi."  An- 
other he  laid  upon  the  ground  and  said.  "This  is 
the  beach  we  never  knew — where  the  sun  rises." 

A  third  he  laid  upon  the  ground  and  said, 
"This  is  Capetown."  Then,  with  the  sharp  end 
of  a  sliver  of  sugar  cane,  he  drew  about  these  on 
the  clay  of  the  floor,  an  outline  of  an  ear. 

"This  that  I  draw,"  said  he,  "is  Africa." 

"He  ye  e!"  cried  out  his  father  and  their 
friends.  "Let  us  see  this  thing  with  our  eyes." 
And  they  all  rose  to  see  that  drawing  on  the 
ground.  They  leaned  above  it,  laughing  and 
slapping  their  thighs. 

"Show  us  that  river,"  they  said,  "that  is  the 
Congo." 

And  Assam  made  the  Congo  with  a  strip  of 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    61 

sugar  cane.    And  another  great  river  he  placed 
for  them — that  was  the  Nile. 

"Tell  us,"  said  Akulu,  when  his  friends  had  saf 
down — "what  the  white  man  was  hunting  on 
these  walks.    What  drew  him  so  far  from  home?" 

"Three  things  he  was  hunting — rivers  and 
waters  he  was  hunting — the  rivers  and  waters 
that  were  hidden  in  the  great  country  of  Africa. 
He  was  a  hunter  of  rivers  and  waters." 

"We  hear,"  said  Akulu,  "though  that  is  a 
strange  word.    What  else?" 

"A  path  he  was  hunting  among  strange  tribes 
and  in  hard  places — this  path  would  be  for  the 
caravans  of  the  missionaries  who  would  follow 
after  when  the  paths  were  known.  He  was  a 
hunter  of  paths." 

"We  hear,"  said  Akulu,  "and  that  is  not  so 
strange.  He  was  just  the  man  who  goes  before 
the  caravan  with  a  cutlass.  We  know  that  man 
and  how  to  pick  him.  He  must  be  a  strong 
man." 

"And  a  third  thing  he  was  hunting — that  was 
news  of  the  buyers  and  sellers  of  slaves.  In  those 
days  among  the  tribes  of  the  black  people,  there 
went  many  cruel  foreigners — cruel  they  were  and 


62        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

fierce.  It  was  their  custom  to  buy  black  people, 
and  where  they  could  not  buy  to  steal.  Men, 
women  and  children  they  drove  from  their  homes 
in  the  forests  and  in  the  grass  country — out  by 
the  paths  to  the  sea,  where  they  sold  them." 

"To  whom?" 

"To  white  men.  And  these  took  them  beyond 
the  sea  in  great  canoes — you  know — what  the 
white  man  calls  steamers." 

"Some  little  news  of  this  thing  I  have  heard," 
said  Akulu,  "though  it  was  never  a  thing  of  our 
neighborhood.  But  why  must  Livingstone  learn 
about  the  slavers?  A  man  of  the  tribe  of  God 
would  never  be  slaving?" 

"It  was  the  news  he  was  hunting — not  the 
slaves.  He  said, — 'If  I  see  with  my  eyes  and  tell 
with  my  mouth  the  great  sorrows  of  those  slaves, 
their  tears,  their  hungers,  their  thirsts,  their 
wounds,  their  deaths  by  the  side  of  the  path,  their 
poor  dry  bones  still  wearing  the  chains  and  the 
stocks, — if  I  get  all  this  news  and  tell  it  to  the 
great  tribe  of  the  people  of  God  in  the  world,  they 
will  listen  and  will  be  angry.  They  will  rise  up 
and  forbid  those  slavers  who  come  from  without 
to  spoil  the  villages  of  the  tribes  who  live  in  the 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    63 

hidden  places  of  Africa !  This  news  was  the  third 
thing  he  hunted.  Now  you  know  the  three  works 
that  God  gave  him  to  do;  and  the  things  that 
drew  him  on  those  many,  many  bad  paths  for 
those  many,  many  seasons  that  he  walked.  Until 
at  the  end  he  was  old — he  was  gray — he  was  no 
more  than  the  bones  of  a  man.  But  when  Liv- 
ingstone came  to  Africa  he  was  young  and  strong. 
He  did  not  know  at  first  that  God  was  going  to 
push  him  to  walk  so  far.  He  began  to  walk 
among  the  tribes  in  the  neighborhood  of  Kuru- 
man."  And  Assam  laid  a  leaf  that  was  Kuru- 
man  upon  his  map.  "But  his  heart  was  not  sit- 
ting down  in  that  neighborhood — it  pushed  him 
North." 

"What  is  North?"  asked  an  old  man. 

"North  is  where  you  look  when  the  rising  sun 
is  on  your  right  hand.  The  hidden  things  of 
Africa  were  all  there.  The  lakes  and  the  rivers 
and  the  tribes  of  the  forest  were  there,  but  the 
eyes  of  white  men  had  not  yet  seen  them.  I  will 
show  you  the  waters  that  were  found  by  Living- 
stone before  he  died." 

Now  with  leaves  and  little  twigs  Assam  fur- 


64        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

nished  for  them  the  rivers  and  the  lakes  of  the 
heart  of  Africa. 

"Livingstone  found  this  great  water,  Ngami," 
said  Assam,  putting  down  upon  the  map  a  little 
leaf  that  was  the  Lake  Ngami. 

"And  this  is  the  river  Zambesi,"  with  a  twist  of 
plantain  cord  he  made  the  river  Zambesi,  and  he 
told  them  how  Livingstone  found  "the  early 
things"  of  the  Zambesi. 

"And  this  Lake  Nyassa,  and  Lake  Mweru  and 
Lake  Bangweolo." 

"Other  white  men  found  Lake  Victoria  Ny- 
anza  and  Lake  Tanganyika,"  asid  Assam,  "but 
I  will  put  them  down  for  you  to  see  the  many 
lakes  that  are  in  our  country.  And  Livingstone 
did  pass  upon  the  Lake  Tanganyika  in  a  canoe. 
Now  you  see  the  lakes  and  the  waters  found  by 
Livingstone.  And  I  will  tell  you  that  the  years 
that  passed  him  while  he  did  this  work  were  thirty 
years  as  white  men  count  years.  And  I  will  tell 
you  that  the  miles  he  walked  were  twenty-seven 
thousand  miles.  Miles  are  a  thing  of  the  white 
man.  Then  I  will  ask  you, — was  this  a  small 
work  that  he  did,  or  was  it  the  work  of  a  real 
man?" 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    65 

"Let  me  say,"  said  Ze  Zom,  "I  who  am  a  real 
man,  and  a  man  who  if  the  sun  sets  will  walk 
by  moonlight — I  say  that  I  never  knew  that  a 
man  could  do  so  great  a  work."  And  the  others 
in  the  palaver  house  agreed.  Of  other  things 
Assam  told  them.  He  told  them  of  the  sign  that 
God  gave  him  while  he  was  yet  a  young  man,  still 
busy  in  the  South — 

"That  sign,"  said  Assam,  "was  a  little  girl  no 
bigger  than  your  wrist.  She  was  an  orphan. 
Other  men  than  the  men  of  her  father's  house 
spoke  of  selling  her.  When  she  heard  that  talk 
of  selling  her  she  ran  from  the  village  to  the  path 
where  Livingstone  was  passing.  She  sat  down 
beneath  his  wagon.  She  begged  Livingstone  to 
take  her  in  his  caravan  to  his  town, — she  would 
walk  all  the  way  behind  his  wagon.  Livingstone 
gave  her  food  and  she  was  glad.  That  day  began 
well  for  her, — even  so — suddenly  she  cried  out 
with  a  loud  crying — there  was  a  man  with  a  gun 
who  had  followed  her!  Now  she  thought,  'It  is 
finished !'  But  no — a  black  man  who  was  a  man 
of  God  and  who  walked  in  Livingstone's  caravan 
said  to  her — 

"  'Take  the  beads  from  your  body.'     She  had 


66        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

many  beads  upon  her  body,  and  with  those  many 
beads,  by  the  advice  of  the  black  Christian,  she 
ransomed  her  body  from  the  man  who  had  fol- 
lowed her.  He  went  away.  Livingstone  then 
hid  that  child  in  his  wagon — so  well  that  five  tens 
of  men  could  not  have  found  her.  This  doing 
that  he  did  for  that  little  girl — I  say  it  was  a 
sign  of  the  work  he  must  do  for  Africa!" 

"I  understand  your  meaning,"  said  Akulu. 
"But  I  am  thinking, — what  a  poor  price  for  a 
girl — just  the  beads  she  wore.  That  man  with  a 
gun  did  not  know  how  to  sell  a  girl!  I  could 
have  done  better!" 

Of  the  scar  upon  Livingstone's  arm  Assam 
told  them — and  the  day  when  the  lion  '  at  Ma- 
botsa  sprang  at  Livingstone.  Many  lions  were  in 
that  neighborhood  and  on  one  day  one  lion  killed 
nine  sheep! 

"How  do  you  mean — one  day?"  said  Akulu. 
"It  is  one  night  you  mean!" 

"I  mean  one  day — and  that  day  in  the  middle 
— with  the  light  of  the  sun  everywhere.  Living- 
stone and  many  black  people  ran  to  kill  the  lion. 


1  There  are  no  lions  in  West  Africa,  but  the  Bulu  have  a  tradi- 
tion of  lions. 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    67 

Livingstone  fired  a  shot.  The  lion  sprang  at  him 
and  caught  him  by  the  shoulder  with  eleven  of  his 
teeth — the  lion  broke  the  white  man's  bone!  He 
put  his  paw  upon  Livingstone's  head, — " 

"He  is  a  dead  man  now!"  cry  out  the  men  in 
the  palaver  house. 

"No — because  there  was  a  man  to  save  him — a 
black  man  of  God  was  there.  He  shot  at  the  lion 
and  missed,  but  the  angry  heart  of  the  lion  turned 
away  from  Livingstone;  he  sprang  at  the  black 
man  and  caught  him  on  the  thigh,  he  caught  a 
third  man  on  the  shoulder.  Then  some  shot  had 
found  him — for  he  fell  dead !  But  all  those  three 
men  still  breathed.  God  permitted  them  to  live. 
This  story  that  I  tell  you  is  a  story  that  white 
men  tell  each  other  and,  when  they  tell  it,  they 
marvel." 

"Well,  we  marvel  too — even  we,  who  are  so 
wise  in  the  things  of  hunting.  That  white  man 
must  have  had  a  strong  charm  against  lions! 
Tell  us  about  that  charm." 

"Tell  us,"  said  Oton — "the  name  of  the  black 
man  who  saved  Livingstone." 

"His  name  was  Mebalwe.  He  was  a  teacher 
of  men." 


68        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"Akeva!"1  said  Oton. 

Assam  told  them  of  Livingstone's  marriage 
with  Mary  Moffat.  She  was  a  daughter  of  a  mis- 
sionary, he  told  them,  so  that  she  understood  all 
the  custom  of  the  tribe  of  missionaries, — how  they 
must  be  enduring,  how  they  must  wander  among 
strange  tribes  and  eat  out  of  the  kettles  of 
strangers — she  understood  all  those  things. 
About  their  children  Assam  told,  and  the  hard- 
ships of  those  early  days  when  this  family  trav- 
eled by  ox  cart  and  before  Livingstone  sent  his 
weary  family  home,  and  went  on  his  way  alone 
through  the  forests  of  Central  Africa.  In  that 
palaver  house  that  night  mothers  sighed  over  the 
death  of  that  little  month-old  girl  who  was  born 
and  buried  and  whose  grave  was  the  first  Chris- 
tian grave  in  that  wilderness.  "Pity  that  woman," 
the  women  said,  when  they  heard  Assam  tell  of 
a  five  days'  drought  when  Livingstone  feared 
that  his  children  must  die  of  thirst. 

"She  was  a  brave  woman,"  said  Assam;  "Liv- 
ingstone has  written  that  praise  of  her  in  his  book. 
He  said  that  the  tears  fell  from  her  eyes,  but  she 


Akeva  is  a  kind  of  thanksgiving  word. 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN!    69 

did  not  accuse  with  her  mouth.  And  on  the  fifth 
day  a  black  man  of  that  caravan  found  water !" 

The  women  in  that  palaver  house  heard  with 
sorrow  that  now  Livingstone  sent  his  family 
home — "Because  he  was  so  sorry  for  them,"  said 
Assam,  "so  sorry  for  all  the  wanderings  of  those 
little  children  and  that  weary  woman." 

"But  who  now,"  asked  the  women,  "would  care 
for  Livingstone  and  cook  his  food  for  him." 

"There  were  black  men  to  do  that,"  Assam  told 
them,  "for  Livingstone  had  been  eleven  years,  as 
white  men  count  years,  in  Africa  and  he  knew  the 
speech  of  many  tribes.  More  than  ever  God  was 
pushing  Livingstone  to  the  north,  upon  paths 
that  were  too  hard  for  women  and  children. 
When  Livingstone  was  alone  he  walked  more 
quickly  than  a  man  may  walk  with  his  wife." 
The  men  in  the  palaver  house  understood  that. 
Black  people  understand  loneliness  and  home 
sickness  with  a  great  understanding.  A  black 
man  or  woman  will  die  of  this  "dryness  of  the 
heart"  that  comes  from  homesickness. 

"But  could  he  not  make  friends  with  the  black 
men  he  met  by  the  way?    Were  there  no  great 


70        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

chiefs  to  befriend  him,  as  my  father  befriended 
Ngutu?" 

"There  were  such  friends.  The  first  of  these 
was  Sechele.  He  was  not  at  first  a  friend,  but  an 
enemy.  He  heard  news  of  a  white  man  and  not 
seeing  him  with  his  eyes  he  was  offended.  He 
said :  'Why  does  he  never  visit  me  when  he  visits  ? 
Because  he  has  not  been  quick  to  visit  me  but 
visits  other  chiefs  who  are  not  so  great  as  I  am — 
I  am  angry.  And  when  he  does  come  I  will  do 
him  a  mischief.'  " 

"I  understand  that  man,"  said  Akulu — "tell 
me  more!" 

"When  Livingstone  came  at  last  to  Sechele's 
town,  there  was  a  great  sorrow  there  because  two 
children  of  the  town  were  dying.  And  one  of 
these  was  Sechele's  only  child.  Livingstone  with 
his  white  man's  medicine  healed  those  two  child- 
ren. Not  all  the  witch  doctors  in  that  country 
could  heal  those  children,  but  the  missionary 
healed  them.  Now  I  ask  you, — What  mischief 
did  Sechele  then  do  to  the  white  man  who  had 
healed  the  children  of  his  town?" 

"What  could  he  do,"  cried  out  Akulu — "but 
make  a  bond  of  friendship!" 


ADVENTURES  OF  WHITE  MEN    71 

"That  thing  he  did,"  said  Assam.  "And  Liv- 
ingstone spoke  to  him  about  the  things  of  God. 
When  he  told  Sechele  of  the  things  of  God, 
Sechele  asked  him  a  question. 

'Why  did  not  the  people  of  your  tribe  come 
to  tell  us  this  news  before?  My  ancestors  have  all 
perished  and  not  one  of  them  knew  what  you  tell 
me!' 

"That  word  struck  Livingstone  to  the  heart. 
Afterward  Sechele  became  a  person  of  the  tribe 
of  God  and  walked  much  in  Livingstone's  com- 
pany, but  Livingstone  never  forgot  that  word  of 
reproach.    It  was  a  word  to  drive  him  north. 

"And  now,"  said  Assam, — "I  am  worn  out 
with  all  this  talking.  My  voice  has  died  in  my 
stomach.    I  want  to  go  to  bed." 

"Ah,  my  son,"  said  Akulu,  "when  will  we  hear 
how  Livingstone  walked? — is  this  all  the  news  of 
his  great  walking?" 

"It  is  no  more  than  the  beginning,"  said  As- 
sam.   "Another  night  I  will  tell  you  more." 

Then  all  the  brown  bodies  of  men  and  women 
and  children  in  that  palaver  house  rose;  they 
stretched  themselves,  they  lit  their  reed  torches 
at  the  fire,  and  the  guests  went  away  murmuring 


72        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

together  of  the  great  things  they  had  heard.  The 
name  of  Livingstone  was  heard  along  the  little 
paths  of  that  forest  neighborhood  that  night. 

Mejo  said  to  Assam  when  they  lay  under  their 
blanket  in  the  dark  of  their  hut, — 

"Ah,  Assam,  what  new  name  did  you  choose?" 

"I  have  not  chosen  yet,"  said  Assam.  "I  am 
still  choosing." 

"I  will  tell  you  my  new  name,"  said  Mejo.  "I 
choose  the  name  of  Livingstone."  Assam  said 
nothing. 

"Do  you  like  that?"  said  Mejo. 

"I  think  you  are  full  of  pride,"  said  Assam. 
"You  chose  a  name  that  is  too  big  for  you.  Since 
when  do  you  walk  upon  hard  paths  and  suffer 
hunger  that  you  may  tell  those  who  are  ignorant 
of  the  things  of  God  ?  That  is  the  work  of  a  boy 
who  calls  himself  Livingstone." 

Mejo  thought  to  himself,  "Assam  believes  that 
I  am  silly  and  a  coward";  and  he  felt  shame  for 
a  little  while  before  he  dropped  asleep. 


CHAPTER  III:     ASSAM  TELLS  MORE  ABOUT 
LIVINGSTONE 


CHAPTER    III:      ASSAM    TELLS    MORE    ABOUT 
LIVINGSTONE 

THE  next  night  when  dark  began  to  fall 
Akulu  beat  on  his  drum  the  call  to  his 
neighbors. 

"That  is  the  voice  of  Akulu's  drum,"  said  one 
to  another  in  all  the  little  villages  of  that  neigh- 
borhood. "He  calls  us  to  hear  the  talk  of  his 
son  Assam.  They  say  that  the  talk  of  Assam  last 
night  was  a  great  talk.  We  too,  we  must  hear 
that  talk." 

Then  men  took  their  spears  in  their  hands  and 
women  took  their  babies  in  deer-skin  slings  by 
their  sides,  and  by  the  light  of  torches  little  com- 
panies walked  single  file  on  the  paths  that  ran  to 
Akulu's  town.  All  about  these  people,  who 
talked  as  they  walked,  the  great  forest  was  dark 
in  the  night.  The  dew  was  wet  on  the  feet  of 
those  people.  The  torch-bearers  waved  their 
torches  as  they  walked,  and  if  there  were  snakes 
on  the  path  they  slid  away  from  that  light. 

In  the  palaver  house  of  Akulu  too  many  peo- 

75 


76        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

pie  crowded.  They  sat  thick  upon  the  bamboo 
beds.  They  sat  upon  the  clay  floor  of  that  house, 
having  first  made  a  little  mat  of  leaves  to  sit 
upon.  The  many  brown  arms  and  the  many 
brown  legs  were  crowded  together.  The  many 
heads  of  men  and  women  turned  toward  Assam 
in  the  firelight.  Bright  eyes  shone  in  that  light 
and  white  teeth  in  many  laughing,  dark  faces. 
Brass  ornaments  glittered  about  the  necks  and 
the  arms  of  the  women  and  the  little  girls,  their 
hair  was  dressed  and  hung  with  garlands  and 
fringes  of  beads  and  of  shells.  The  women  were 
tattooed  and  the  men  were  tattooed  with  great 
drawings  in  a  purple  black  upon  their  brown 
faces  and  upon  their  bodies.  On  two  tall  drums 
that  were  dance  drums,  two  little  wooden  images 
sat — they  were  the  great  fetishes  of  Akulu's 
village.  They  had  eyes  but  they  did  not  see  As- 
sam, ears  they  had  but  they  did  not  hear  the 
great  talk  about  Livingstone  that  Assam  talked 
all  that  evening  until  the  middle  of  the  night. 

There  was  still  upon  the  clay  floor  of  the  house 
the  map  which  Assam  had  made  the  night  before. 
All  day  the  idlers  in  the  village  had  bent  over 
it,  naming  rivers  and  lakes,  and  laughing  as  they 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    77 

named  them.  They  were  proud  to  know,  after 
all  the  generations  of  black  men  who  had  died 
without  knowing — the  "things  of  Africa."  And 
now  they  listened  with  a  great  wonder  and  a 
great  attention  to  the  story  of  Livingstone's  long 
way. 

Upon  Assam's  map  they  followed  Livingstone 
from  Koboleng  to  Linyanti,  from  Linyanti  to 
Loando,  from  Loando  back  to  Linyanti,  from 
Linyanti  to  Tette.  From  Tette  they  could  not 
follow  him  home  in  the  white  man's  boat — that 
journey  was  too  strange  for  them.  But  they 
welcomed  him  back  to  Africa;  they  followed  him 
up  and  down  the  Zambesi  river  on  his  second 
journey  that  was  so  much  a  water  journey;  they 
welcomed  him  upon  his  return  from  his  second 
visit  home.  They  made  with  Assam  upon  the 
map  the  heroic  journeys  of  Livingstone's  last 
eight  years,  when  he  wandered  from  Lake  Ny- 
assa  to  Lake  Bangoweolo,  from  Bangoweolo  to 
Lake  Tanganyiki  and  from  there  north  and  west 
— always  himting  the  sources  of  the  Nile,  and  so 
nearly  tapping  the  sources  of  the  Congo.  That 
lonely  and  heroic  man,  in  his  admiral's  cap  of 
tarnished  gold  lace,  came  back  to  the  imagina- 


78        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

tions  of  those  black  men  and  women  who  heard 
his  story  that  night. 

All  the  hardships  of  this  journey  were  very 
real  to  the  black  men  and  women  in  that  palaver 
house, — all  the  violent  rains  that  fell  upon  him 
were  real  to  them,  all  the  fury  of  the  violent  sun- 
light, all  the  swollen  rivers  that  he  must  cross 
in  canoes  that  must  be  borrowed  from  unwilling 
owners,  all  his  bleeding  wounds  when  he  must 
make  his  way  through  thorny  thickets,  all  his 
escapes  from  wild  animals  and  from  unfriendly 
chiefs.  These  dangers  and  these  cares  were  of  a 
tribe  they  knew.  The  men  in  that  audience  were 
native  to  the  dangers  and  the  deaths  of  that 
great  forest  which  sighed  about  their  little  clear- 
ing in  the  night,  as  it  had  sighed  about  Living- 
stone on  all  the  nights  of  his  African  wanderings. 

"Tell  us  about  the  great  chiefs  he  met,"  they 
asked.  And  Assam  told  them  about  Sebituane, 
that  great  chief  of  the  Makalolo  tribe  who  ruled 
at  Linyanti  on  the  mighty  Zambesi  river. 

"Before  Livingstone  ever  saw  Sebituane  with 
his  eyes  he  heard  great  news  of  him,"  said  Assam. 
"That  man  was  famous  in  the  mouths  of  men. 
They  said  that  he  was  a  great  ruler,  a  great  war- 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    79 

rior,  a  great  traveler,  a  great  runner,  a  great 
hunter,  and  a  great  giver  of  gifts.  They  said  that 
he  was  kind  to  the  poor,  and  that  he  liked  to  sit 
and  talk  with  the  least  company,  and  that  sitting 
and  talking  with  humble  folk  he  would  share  the 
choicest  food  with  them.  Men  said  of  him — 
'He  is  wise,  he  is  kind!'  " 

"Now  there  is  a  man  I  would  like  to  visit," 
cried  Akulu,  "does  he  still  live?" 

"He  is  dead,"  said  Assam,  "and  I  will  tell  you 
about  that, — 

"Before  Sebituane  saw  the  white  man,  he 
longed  to  see  a  white  man.  That  was  his  great 
desire.  It  was  as  if  God  had  put  that  wish  in  his 
heart.  And  when  Sebituane  saw  Livingstone  his 
heart  sat  down — he  was  satisfied.  He  liked  Liv- 
ingstone. When  the  day  that  is  Sunday  came 
and  Livingstone  called  all  the  people  to  hear 
the  Word  of  God,  Sebituane  heard  that  Word. 
He  came  to  that  meeting.  He  never  came  to 
another  meeting  to  hear  the  Word  of  God,  be- 
cause he  sickened  and  died.  Ten  days  and  four 
days  he  lay  upon  his  bed  and  then  he  died.  The 
last  words  Sebituane  said  were  words  of  kind- 
ness to  Livingstone's  little  boy.    He  said,  'Take 


80       AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

him  to  Maunka,  my  wife,  and  tell  her  to  give  him 
some  milk.'  He  never  spoke  again.  Living- 
stone made  a  little  song  about  Sebituane,  and  it 
is  written  in  his  book — he  made  a  little  song  of 
grieving.  Those  who  read  his  book  read  that 
little  song  and  remember  Sebituane." 

"That  is  good,"  said  Akulu,  "Livingstone  had 
a  heart  like  a  black  man.  It  is  certainly  a  thing 
of  grief  to  remember  Sebituane  and  his  great  de- 
sire to  hear  the  Word  of  God,  and  that  he  heard 
it  only  one  hearing.  I  like  this  news  of  great 
chiefs — tell  me  more." 

Assam  told  them  of  Sekeletu,  the  son  of  Sebi- 
tuane, who  sat  in  his  father's  seat  and  ruled  the 
Makalolo.  He  told  of  the  great  state  of  that 
young  man,  of  how  when  he  went  upon  a  journey 
he  was  attended  by  strong  men  whose  headdresses 
were  made  of  the  manes  of  lions  and  the  waving 
feathers  of  birds.  He  told  of  how  the  Makalolo 
greeted  their  chief  when  he  passed  their  villages 
saying,  "Great  Lion — mighty  chief,  sleep,  my 
Lord!"  He  told  of  the  flesh  of  oxen  that  was 
eaten  by  the  happy  men  of  such  a  caravan,  of 
their  dancing  and  their  feastings,  of  their  long 
talks  about  the  night  fires  when  they  were  in 


THE    LONELY    HOUSE 

This  is   the   little  hut    where  Mejo   lived  by  himself. 


THE    CARAVAN    OF  THE    WHITE   WOMAN 

She  is  going  to  visit  the  school   girls  in  their  villages. 


*£?-*  *S+j3&f8& 


THE  FERRY 

This   canoe   is   hollowed   out   of   the   trunk   of   a   tree. 


"Skue 


* 


A  RIVER  JOURNEY 

The    missionaries    on    a    journey    down 
the      river      to      visit      other      villages. 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    81 

camps,  of  their  songs,  and  of  how  Skeletu  would 
rush  out  with  a  whip  of  rhinoceros  hide  to  beat 
his  young  men  until  they  were  quiet.  The  story 
of  so  much  grandeur — of  so  much  gilded  youth 
and  power  made  the  humble  hearers  very  envious, 
they  wished  to  wander  in  such  caravans,  singing 
and  dancing  and  feasting.  Then  Assam  told 
them  of  the  enemy  of  Sekeletu,  who  was  his  half 
brother — Mpepe,  and  of  how  three  times  in  one 
day  he  tried  to  kill  Sekeletu.  Himself  he  would 
be  chief  of  the  Makalolo.  His  spear  was  raised 
against  his  brother  when  Livingstone  passed  be- 
tween the  bodies  of  Sekeletu  and  Mpepe.  The 
body  of  the  white  man  saved  the  life  of  the  black 
chief.  But  for  his  treachery  Mpepe  was  killed 
by  the  Makalolo.  Assam  told  this  of  Sekeletu, 
— that  when  Livingstone  returned  from  his  long 
journeys  to  the  west  he  found  his  friend  Sekeletu 
a  leper. 

"Death  does  not  spare  beauty,"  said  Akulu. 

"You  till  the  ground  that  covers  you,"  said 
another.  And  these  two  sayings  are  Bulu 
proverbs. 

Assam  told  them  of  the  twenty-seven  Makalolo 
men  who  carried  Livingstone's  loads  on  his  jour- 


82        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

neys  to  and  from  Linyanti  to  the  west  coast,  and 
to  the  east  coast.  He  told  of  the  goods  that  was 
in  those  loads, — the  ivory,  the  calico,  the  beads, 
the  brass  wire,  the  many  things  of  barter  to  buy 
food  by  the  way,  and  of  the  four  books  that  were 
in  the  loads.  One  of  these  books  was  a  book  to 
write  in — in  that  book  Livingstone  wrote  the 
things  of  every  day.  He  told  of  the  robbers  by 
the  way,  and  of  those  chiefs  who  came  with  spears 
and  arrows  to  kill  Livingstone  when  he  should 
pass.  He  told  of  God's  care  over  that  caravan, 
so  that  when  at  last  they  returned  to  Linyanti 
there  was  not  a  man  of  the  twenty-seven  missing. 

That  all  the  men  of  the  caravan  saw  their 
home  again  after  such  dangers  upon  strange 
paths  was  a  great  marvel  to  Akulu. 

Ze  Zom  said,  "This  doing  was  the  doing  of 
God;  thus  He  cares  for  the  men  who  do  His 
work." 

"Tell  us  what  those  forest  people  said  when 
first  they  saw  the  sea,"  said  Akulu,  "did  they  re- 
joice to  see  the  water?  Perhaps  they  danced  the 
dance  that  the  men  of  our  tribe  dance  when  first 
they  stand  upon  the  beach?" 

"They  marveled.     They  said,  'The  ships  are 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    83 

as  big  as  houses!  They  are  as  big  as  towns! 
These  are  not  canoes.  And  we  thought  ourselves 
sailors.  Only  the  white  men  are  sailors  that  come 
up  out  of  the  sea  where  there  is  no  more  earth; 
but  earth  says, — I  am  gone,  dead,  swallowed  up, 
and  there  is  nothing  but  water  left.' ' 

"That  saying  was  good,"  said  Akulu.  "I  my- 
self had  such  a  wonder  when  I  saw  the  sea.  I 
see  that  the  Makalolo  tribe  have  hearts  like  our- 
selves. But  I  am  not  able  to  think  why  Living- 
stone, who  stood  upon  the  beach  after  such  jour- 
neys upon  such  bad  paths,  did  not  now  go  back 
in  a  white  man's  canoe  to  his  own  town." 

"Because  of  his  promise,"  said  Assam.  "The 
promise  that  he  made  to  the  Makalolo  men  that 
he  would  take  them  home." 

"Such  persistence!"  said  Akulu.  "But  I  see 
the  custom  of  the  tribe  of  God  is  strong  for  the 
truth.  They  are  tied  by  their  promises.  I  see 
that  even  in  my  own  town." 

Assam  told  them  about  the  return  to  Linyanti 
that  was  slower  than  the  journey  to  Loanda.  Ze 
Zom  said — 

"Yes — because  they  were  now  weary."  And 
Assam  said  that  thev  were  often  ill. 


84        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Those  men  and  women  in  the  palaver  house 
were  glad  when  Livingstone  found  letters  and  a 
package  from  home  at  Linyanti.  They  laughed 
when  they  heard  that  Livingstone  called  the  great 
falls  of  the  Zambesi  river  after  the  name  of  a 
chief  who  was  a  woman.1  They  were  angry  at 
the  great  chief  Mpende  who  would  not  befriend 
Livingstone,  but  who  made  charms  and  spells 
against  him.  They  marveled  at  that  courage  with 
which  the  white  man  of  God,  when  he  must  cross 
the  Zambesi  river  with  armed  enemies  at  his  back, 
sent  his  men  and  his  goods  over  first,  while  he 
himself  amused  his  enemies  with  his  watch  and 
his  burning  glass.  They  were  so  surprised  at 
these  marvels  that  they  let  the  caravan  pass. 

"Even  so,"  said  Akulu,  "when  he  himself 
would  get  in  the  canoe,  at  the  last,  they  would 
then  forget  their  wonder  and  would  spear  him, 
or  shoot  him  with  arrows.    Did  he  not  fear?" 

"He  did  not  fear,"  said  Assam.  "The  night 
before  this  day,  he  had  said  in  his  heart, — 'Per- 
haps they  will  knock  me  on  the  head  to-morrow.' 
But  he  read  in  the  Word  of  God  that  Jesus  said, 
'Go  ye  therefore,  and  teach  all  nations — and  lo, 

1  Victoria. 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    85 

I  am  with  you  alway  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world.'  That  word  gave  him  courage,  so  that 
when  he  saw  that  he  must  get  in  the  canoe,  he 
thanked  those  people  for  their  kindness,  he 
wished  them  peace  and  he  turned  his  back." 

"Akeva!"  shouted  the  people  who  were  of  the 
tribe  of  God  in  that  palaver  house. 

When  Assam  told  them  of  Livingstone's  home 
going,  they  asked  all  the  news  of  his  town. 

"Besom  b'akele  he!"  cried  out  the  women — 
and  that  is  to  say — "Lucky  ones  go  home!" 

These  women  were  thinking  of  the  towns  in 
which  they  were  born,  where  their  fathers  and 
mothers  still  lived,  and  which  they  had  not  seen 
since  they  had  been  taken  away  in  marriage. 

"Besom  b'akele  he!" 

They  asked  were  his  children  glad  to  see  him. 
And  Mary  Moffat — was  she  glad?  They  liked 
to  hear  how  Livingstone  was  admired  in  his  own 
country,  so  that  the  people  crowded  him  in  the 
streets  and  in  the  house  of  God.  They  heard 
how  the  great  chief  of  his  country  made  him  a 
present. 

"The  chief  that  was  a  woman?"  asked  Akulu. 

"That  one,"  said  Assam. 


86        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"Then  it  would  be  a  present  of  food,"  said 
Akulu — "food  that  she  had  cooked  herself." 

"Not  of  food,"  said  Assam,  "but  of  yellow 
metal — the  great  treasure  of  the  white  man." 

"And  when  Livingstone  said  he  would  return 
to  the  country  of  the  black  people,  did  she  not 
send  a  present  to  the  black  people  by  the  hand 
of  that  man  who  was  going  from  her  town  to  the 
towns  of  the  black  chiefs?  Did  she  understand 
that  custom?" 

"She  did,"  said  Assam,  "and  she  sent  a  pres- 
ent. That  present  was  a  boat  to  go  upon  the 
rivers  that  the  work  of  God  might  be  swift  to 
pass  among  the  tribes  of  the  black  people." 

"She  was  then  a  person  of  God,  that  woman?" 
asked  Ze  Zom. 

"She  was." 

"Akeva!"  cried  out  the  Christian  women  in 
the  palaver  house. 

"If  I  could  send  her  a  present!"  said  one. 

"If  I  could  send  her  some  peanuts!"  said 
another. 

"If  I  could  embrace  her!"  said  a  third. 

The  people  in  that  palaver  house  watched  the 
river  journeys  of  Livingstone  on  the  Zambesi 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    87 

and  the  tributaries  of  the  Zambesi  and  into  the 
great  Lake  Nyassa.  They  rejoiced  when  Assam 
told  that  Mary  Moffat  came  to  meet  her  hus- 
band a  day  of  one  rainy  season,  and  when  they 
heard  that  on  a  day  of  the  next  rainy  season 
she  died,  there  was  a  great  compassion  in  the 
hearts  of  those  black  people. 

"Now,  surely,"  they  said,  "he  walks  alone. 
Now  he  will  not  be  wishing  ever  again  to  go  back 
to  his  own  house,  where  the  hearth  is  cold!" 

"But  in  his  own  country  there  were  still  his 
children,"  said  Assam,  "and,  to  see  their  faces, 
he  did  go  back  to  his  own  country.  He  saw  them, 
but  he  could  not  stay  with  them,  because  there 
were  still  hidden  things  in  Africa  that  he  had  not 
found.  Waters  that  he  had  not  yet  found,  better 
paths  for  the  caravans  of  the  missionaries  who 
should  follow  him,  and  more  sorrows  of  slaves 
than  he  had  counted." 

And  Assam  told  his  friends  the  story  of  the 
last  eight  years  of  Livingstone's  life.  About  his 
caravans  Assam  told  them,  and  how  some  of 
those  men  were  treacherous.  There  was  a  new 
grief  in  that  palaver  house  for  the  old  wrong 
two  black  carriers  did  Livingstone  when  they 


88        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

ran  away,  on  a  rainy  day,  with  his  medicine  chest, 
and  left  him  ill  without  medicine.  There  was  a 
new  praise  that  night  for  the  faithful  boys  Susi 
and  Chuma,  who  did  not  fail  their  master  even  at 
his  death.  There  was  a  new  sorrow  for  those 
days  of  weaknesses  and  fever — those  months 
when  Livingstone  could  not  walk  because  his 
feet  were  sore. 

The  women  that  night  cried  out  when  Assam 
told  them  of  the  little  boy — "no  higher  than  your 
knee" — who  was  bought  by  a  slaver  before  Liv- 
ingstone's eyes.  Four  yards  of  cloth  was  paid 
for  that  little  boy — who  cast  his  arms  about  his 
mother,  and  his  mother  was  sold  for  two  yards 
of  cloth. 

Men  cried  out  when  Assam  told  of  the  great 
chief  called  Casembe.  That  man  had  a  fine  house. 
The  gate  of  his  house  was  ornamented  with  six 
tens  of  the  skulls  of  men. 

"Do  you  speak  a  true  word?"  cried  Akulu, 
"now  that  is  news!" 

"He  was  a  cruel  man,"  said  Assam,  "he  had 
many  people  without  ears  and  without  hands. 
His  wife  carried  two  spears.  She  was  carried 
by  men.    Men  ran  before  her  beating  drums  and 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE     89 

swinging  axes  as  they  ran.  But  that  woman  was 
a  good  gardener." 

"She  would  be  too  proud  for  me,"  said  Akulu. 

Assam  told  them  of  the  Manyuema  tribe  and 
that  they  were  cannibals.  "The  people  of  the 
Manyuema  tribe,"  said  Assam,  "did  many  wicked 
things  and  Livingstone  wrote  those  things  in  his 
book." 

"Stop,"  said  Akulu,  "while  you  open  a  word 
for  me.  You  are  always  speaking  about  this 
book — he  wrote  this  thing  in  his  book,  he  wrote 
that  thing  in  his  book.  What  kind  of  a  book 
was  this?    I  want  to  know." 

"We  too,  we  ask  that  question!"  said  they  all. 
And  one  man  said, 

"I  tremble  when  I  think  of  that  book  in  which 
the  deeds  of  men  were  written!" 

"His  book  was  like  this,"  said  Assam,  "Living- 
stone said, — 'It  is  well  that  white  men  should 
know  the  hidden  things  that  I  find.  All  the 
things  that  I  see  I  will  write.'  And  that  man  saw 
everything.  He  writes  about  everything.  He 
writes  about  lip-rings — how  the  people  of  some 
tribes  put  rings  in  their  lips.  He  writes  about 
the  things  of  tattoo,  and  about  the  red  powder 


90        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

that  we  black  people  grind  from  the  bark  of  trees 
and  rub  upon  our  bodies  to  make  us  beautiful. 
He  writes  about  beads — those  beads  we  love  and 
all  the  many  tribes  of  beads  that  traders  sell  to 
black  men.  Those  that  are  black  and  the  white 
ones  and  the  red  beads  we  call  bird's  eye — and 
some  tribes  call  them  blood.  He  writes  about 
all  the  ways  of  building  huts,  and  about  the  little 
seats  and  the  beds  in  the  huts  he  writes. 

''He  writes  about  ivory — those  men  who  have 
ivory,  those  villages  where  ivory  is.  About  the 
Babisa  tribe  he  writes  that  they  made  their  door 
posts  of  ivory  and  their  house  pillars  of  ivory." 

"Their  house  pillars  of  what?"  shouted  Akulu, 
and  some  men  in  the  company  sprang  to  their 
feet. 

"Of  ivory!"  said  Assam. 

"Some  things  I  believe,  but  not  that  thing," 
said  Akulu.  "Even  so,  the  tribe  of  the  missionary 
is  known  to  tell  the  truth.     Go  on." 

"He  writes  about  the  great  sunlight  and  the 
great  rains  that  are  stronger  than  the  sunlight 
and  the  rains  of  the  white  man's  country.  He 
writes  of  headmen  who  are  beautiful  and  those 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE     91 

who  are  not  beautiful;  with  his  eyes  he  judges 
them." 

"I  like  that,"  said  Ze,  "most  white  people  are 
stupid  about  judging  the  things  of  the  bodies  of 
men." 

"He  writes  about  hunters  and  manners  of 
hunting ;  and  about  how  God  gave  skill  to  black- 
smiths, and  of  how  wise  black  men  make  salt  out 
of  a  kind  of  grass." 

"As  our  fathers  did,"  cried  out  an  old  man. 

"Yes,"  said  Assam,  "and  animals  he  writes 
about — all  kinds  of  monkeys,  some  very  big  and 
some  very  little.  About  giraffes  he  writes  and 
rhinoceroses,  about  elephants, — those  with  tusks 
and  those  without  tusks.  He  writes  about  lions 
that  break  through  the  roofs  of  houses,  and  of 
leopards  that  steal  dogs  and  a  sheep.  He  writes 
about  an  old  man  that  wore  bracelets  of  elephant 
hide  on  his  arm — two  tens  and  seven  bracelets 
he  wore  on  his  arm — and  that  was  the  number 
of  elephants  this  old  man  had  killed  with  his  own 
spear. 

"He  writes  about  the  making  of  clay  pots — 
how  women  make  them  with  their  hands  and  a 
little  tool  of  bone.    He  writes  about  all  tools  of 


92        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

iron  and  tools  of  stone.  He  writes  about  flowers 
and  about  fruit.  He  writes  about  drumming 
and  about  dancing.  He  writes  about  spears  and 
about  arrows  and  about  the  poison  that  is  good  to 
put  on  arrows." 

"He  writes  much  about  blacksmiths  and  that 
they  are  clever,  and  he  tells  how  the  bark  of  trees 
is  soaked  in  water  and  pounded  into  cloth  with  a 
mallet  of  ebony  just  as  we  do. 

"He  tells  how  for  the  dead  there  is  a  little  hut 
made  and  there  is  put  the  food  that  the  dead  man 
loved  while  he  was  yet  alive. 

"Pity  us  all,  who  are  of  the  tribe  who  die!"  * 

"He  writes  about  the  dancers  that  dance  to 
make  rain,  and  all  the  medicine  we  black  people 
make  that  the  rain  may  fall.  He  writes  about 
the  great  markets  of  the  people  of  the  Manyuema 
tribe  where  there  gather  as  many  people  as  come 
here  on  a  Sunday  to  hear  the  Word  of  God,  and 
about  the  little  girls  who  run  among  those  many 
people  selling  little  cups  of  water  for  a  few  small 
fishes." 

"Since  I  was  born!"  cried  our  Mejo's  mother, 
"Now  that  is  a  new  way  to  catch  fish!" 

*Bulu  proverb. 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    93 

"And  in  that  market  he  saw  a  man  with  ten 
jaw  bones  of  ten  men  hanging  on  a  string  from 
his  shoulder — he  said  he  had  eaten  those  ten 
men,  and  he  laughed." 

"And  that  laugh  is  written  in  the  white  man's 
book,  with  the  count  of  those  ten  jaw  bones?" 
asked  Ze  Zom. 

"It  is,"  said  Assam. 

"Pity  that  man  of  evil  deeds,"  said  Ze. 

"He  writes  on  a  certain  day  of  the  Arab  slavers 
that  they  rushed  in  among  the  people  who  had 
come  to  that  market  and  killed  more  than  three 
hundred  of  the  people  of  the  Manuyema  tribe; 
and  ten  villages  and  two  villages  they  burned 
that  day.  These  things  of  death  they  did  to  give 
a  sign  that  they  were  a  strong  people  not  to  be 
denied.  I  cannot  remember  all  the  things  of 
death  they  did.  But  Livingstone  made  a  strong 
writing  in  his  book  about  this  matter,  and  he 
made  a  strong  prayer  to  God.  And  he  himself 
without  the  force  of  a  gun  or  other  such  force, 
but  with  the  force  of  a  white  man  and  a  man  of 
God,  he  forced  the  slavers  to  release  thirty  slaves. 
Some  of  those  slaves  so  released  looked  at  Living- 
stone, the  tears  ran  down  their  cheeks.    I  cannot 


94        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

tell  you  all  the  things  he  wrote  about  the  sorrows 
of  slaves.  He  counted  all  those  sorrows, — their 
hungers,  their  thirsts,  their  wounds,  their  chains 
and  their  stocks,  their  homesickness,  their  deaths 
by  the  way  and  their  poor  bones  that  he  saw  con- 
tinually. Until  after  all  his  many  thoughts  of 
slaves  and  his  long  counting  of  the  things  of  the 
driven  slave  he  said: 

"  'Of  five  men  who  are  hunted  and  taken  by 
the  slaver — one  man  alone  survives  the  troubles 
of  the  path  from  his  own  country  to  the  sea !' ' 

"Pity  those  slaves!"  cried  out  Assam's  friends. 

"Other  things  he  counted  and  wrote  in  his 
book,"  said  Assam.  "Every  kindness  that  was 
ever  done  to  him  and  his  men.  Every  present  of 
an  ox  or  an  ivory  or  a  hen  or  an  ear  of  corn. 
Every  great  kindness  and  every  least  little  kind- 
ness is  written  in  that  book.  It  is  written  that  on 
a  night  of  the  rainy  season,  when  he  was  upon 
a  journey  with  Sekeletu,  Livingstone  lay  down 
to  sleep  in  his  wet  clothes  and  Sekeletu  gave  him 
his  own  blanket  to  cover  his  body  that  night." 

"I  like  to  think  that  man  had  friends,"  said 
Akulu,  "when  he  was  so  long  with  the  black  peo- 
ple that  the  white  people  forgot  him." 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    95 

"They  did  not  forget  him,"  said  Assam,  "and 
I  will  tell  of  his  great  white  friend.  After  those 
terrible  things  of  death  that  Livingstone  saw 
among  the  Manyuema  people  when  the  slavers 
killed  them — Livingstone  went  away.  He  was 
sick  with  sorrow.  He  went  to  Njiji.  That  was 
a  bad  journey.  Three  times  in  one  day  he  es- 
caped death.  One  spear  on  that  day  grazed  his 
neck ;  another  spear  fell  at  his  hand,  and  a  great 
tree  in  falling  fell  so  near  him  that  he  was  covered 
with  dust.  But  the  poor  white  man  felt  such  a 
great  weakness  of  the  body  that  he  thought  he 
was  dying  as  he  walked.  And  on  that  day  his 
goods  was  stolen  from  him, — all  that  was  left 
of  his  calico;  a  glass  to  see  the  things  that  are 
far  away;  his  umbrella;  five  spears." 

"Such  a  day!"  said  Ze  Zom,  "If  I  were  not  a 
person  of  God,  I  would  certainly  say  that  there 
was  a  charm  to  keep  that  man  alive!  God  is  a 
great  keeper!" 

"He  was  now  no  more  than  the  bones  of  a 
man — hunger  and  sickness  had  caught  him.  But 
he  thought  always  of  the  food  at  Njiji — where 
he  would  find  much  goods.  He  had  begged  his 
friends  to  send  him  a  caravan  of  goods.     He 


96        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

wrote  in  his  letter, — 'I  will  meet  that  goods  at 
Njiji!'  So  he  came  to  that  place  with  an  empty 
stomach,  as  a  man  returns  from  a  hungry  coun- 
try to  his  own  town  and  he  believes  that  there 
is  good  food  for  him  in  the  kettles  of  his  own 
town. 

"Well,  when  he  came  to  Njiji — here  is  the 
thing  Livingstone  saw.  He  saw  the  slaves  of 
the  Arab  whose  name  was  Shereef  and  those 
slaves  were  coming  from  the  market  with  all  good 
things  in  bundles  on  their  heads.  They  had 
traded  the  goods  of  Livingstone  for  things  in 
the  market.  His  friends  had  sent  Livingstone's 
goods  to  Shereef,  the  Arab,  with  this  word, — 
'Keep  the  goods  of  this  caravan  until  the  white 
man  comes.'  And  Shereef  had  stolen  that 
goods !" 

"If  I  were  a  young  man,"  cried  out  Akulu,  "I 
would  walk  to  that  town  of  Njiji,  and  with  my 
own  hand  I  would  kill  that  thief!" 

"And  we  would  walk  in  your  company!" 
shouted  the  men  in  the  palaver  house. 

"Listen  to  the  great  escape  God  made  for  him. 
Five  days  Livingstone  sat  in  that  town  eating 
what  little  food  he  could  buy  and  his  heart  was 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    97 

heavy  in  his  stomach.  On  the  fifth  day  Susi  and 
Chuma  ran  to  tell  their  master  that  a  white  man's 
caravan  was  coming  on  the  path  from  the  rising 
sun.  They  ran  to  greet  that  white  man,  they 
thought  he  was  an  Englishman.  But  when  Liv- 
ingstone saw  the  caravan  he  saw  that  the  first 
carrier  had  a  piece  of  cloth — it  was  like  the  piece 
of  cloth  that  is  hung  over  the  mission  station  on  a 
pole." 

"Then  it  was  the  American  flag,"  cried  out 
little  Me  jo. 

"You  have  said  it,"  said  Assam,  "and  that 
white  man  was  the  man  the  people  of  America 
sent  to  find  Livingstone.  They  said  in  their 
hearts, — 'All  these  days  that  Livingstone  does 
the  work  of  God  in  the  hidden  places  of  Africa 
— What  is  his  news?  Does  he  still  breathe?  Or 
is  he  dead?'  To  answer  these  questions  the  peo- 
ple of  that  tribe  sent  Stanley." 

"That  was  a  great  meeting  of  two  white  men," 
said  Akulu,  and  the  people  in  the  palaver  house 
listened  to  all  the  news  of  that  meeting.  They 
heard  how  Livingstone,  when  he  saw  all  the  goods 
in  that  caravan — the  pots  and  kettles  and  tents 


98        AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

and  tin  baths,  thought  in  his  heart:  "Here  walks 
a  rich  man  and  not  a  poor  vagabond  like  me." 

They  heard  how  Stanley  knew  Livingstone  by 
the  cap  he  was  always  known  to  wear.  They 
heard  how  Stanley  took  off  his  helmet  when  he 
saw  Livingstone,  and  Livingstone  took  off  his 
cap — as  white  men  do  in  salutation.  And  that 
they  then  thanked  God  for  their  meeting. 

The  Africans  understand  homesickness  and 
loneliness  too  well.  They  were  glad  that  night 
in  Akulu's  palaver  house  that  Livingstone  could 
speak  with  Stanley  the  tongue  of  his  own  tribe 
— after  six  years  of  loneliness. 

"Surely,"  they  said,  "the  talk  of  those  two 
white  men  must  have  been  as  abundant  as  rain." 
They  were  glad  of  the  many  letters  that  Stanley 
brought  Livingstone,  and  of  the  presents  he 
brought  him.  When  they  heard  that  Stanley 
begged  Livingstone  to  go  home  with  him,  they 
thought  he  must  surely  go.  But  no,  Assam  told 
them,  Livingstone  did  not  go  home.  He  re- 
mained to  finish  his  work. 

"For  five  moons  those  two  white  men  ate  out 
of  the  same  kettle,  they  walked  in  the  same  cara- 
van, they  slept  in  the  same  tent,  they  talked  the 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE    99 

talk  of  friends.  Then  Stanley  rose  up  and  went 
away.  That  morning  he  went  away  he  could  not 
eat  for  sorrow.  Livingstone  showed  Stanley  the 
path.  Stanley  looked  at  Livingstone  many 
times ;  he  thought  in  his  heart, — 'Perhaps  I  shall 
never  see  this  man  again.'  He  said  to  Living- 
stone,— 'The  best  of  friends  must  part,  you  have 
come  far  enough,  now  I  must  beg  you  to  go 
back.' 

"Livingstone  gave  Stanley  great  thanks  for 
his  many  good  deeds  to  him.  He  said  to  Stanley, 
— 'God  guide  you  safe  home.'  They  parted. 
Who  knows  the  things  of  the  heart  of  Living- 
stone when  he  watched  the  going  away  of  Stan- 
ley! No  other  white  man  had  shown  him  such 
kindness.  In  his  book  Livingstone  wrote  about 
Stanley — 'a  dutiful  son  could  not  have  done 
more.' 

"No  white  man  ever  saw  Livingstone  again. 
All  the  kindnesses  that  Livingstone  ever  knew 
again  were  the  kindness  of  black  people." 

Now  it  was  very  late  at  night — "the  night  was 
in  the  middle" — while  Assam  told  his  friends 
about  the  end  of  Livingstone's  long  way.  They 
listened  in  silence.    "With  the  eyes  of  the  heart," 


100      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

as  the  Bulu  say,  they  saw  the  last  journeys  of 
that  tired  man. 

"Now  he  can  no  longer  walk,  and  the  men  of 
that  last  and  faithful  caravan  make  a  hammock 
swung  to  a  pole  and  they  carry  him.  At  night 
they  build  little  shelters  where  he  sleeps.  Coming 
to  a  village  called  Ilala  they  make  a  little  shelter. 
The  chief  of  that  town  is  Chitambo,  he  and  his 
people  are  all  away  in  their  gardens.  They  hear 
that  the  white  man  is  come;  they  return  to  look 
at  him  where  he  lies  under  the  eaves  of  a  hut. 
They  lean  upon  their  bows  looking  at  him.  The 
rain  falls ;  and  his  men  build  the  shelter.  Those 
men  know  all  the  work  of  the  white  man's  camp. 
Livingstone  is  glad  that  night  to  be  in  his 
shelter. 

"The  next  day  Livingstone  is  very  weak;  he 
cannot  talk  with  Chitambo  who  comes  to  salute 
him. 

"The  second  night  in  the  village  of  Ilala,  Liv- 
ingstone is  no  better.  A  fire  is  laid  at  the  door 
of  his  hut  and  some  of  his  men  sit  about  that  fire. 
Once  in  the  night  Susi  went  into  the  hut  and 
Livingstone  speaks  to  him.  Just  before  the  crow- 
ing of  cocks  Susi  and  Chuma  with  three  other 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE  101 

men  went  into  the  hut.  There  was  a  candle  burn- 
ing there  and  by  that  little  light  the  men  saw 
their  master  on  his  knees  beside  his  bed.  They 
knew  that  to  kneel  was  his  custom  when  he 
prayed.  But  soon  they  saw  that  he  longer 
breathed.  When  they  touched  him  they  found 
that  he  was  cold. 

"They  laid  their  master  on  the  bed,  they  cov- 
ered him.  They  went  out  into  the  night  to  con- 
sult together.  They  then  heard  the  cocks  crow. 
They  did  not  wail  or  cry  out  as  foolish  men  would 
have  done ;  they  knew  that  they  must  be  wise  and 
silent.  They  were  far  from  home,  without  a 
protector.  They  were  among  a  strange  people, 
who  would  accuse  them  and  perhaps  kill  them 
when  it  would  be  an  open  word  that  the  white 
man  died  in  Chitambo's  town.  Those  people  of 
Ilala  would  be  saying  that  the  spirit  of  the  white 
man  was  come  to  trouble  their  town.  So  Living- 
stone's sorrowful  men  spoke  quietly  together. 

"They  chose  Susi  and  Chuma  for  their  leaders. 
They  said  that  the  body  of  Livingstone  and  all 
his  goods  must  be  carried  to  the  beach.  They 
said  they  would  keep  his  death  secret.  But  when 
the  next  day  was  in  the  middle,  Chitambo  came 


102      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

to  them.  He  said,  'Why  did  you  not  tell  me  the 
truth  ?  I  know  that  your  master  died  last  night. 
You  were  afraid  to  let  me  know,  but  do  not  fear 
any  longer.  I  know  that  you  have  no  bad  mo- 
tives in  coming  to  our  land,  and  death  often 
catches  travelers  on  their  journeys.' 

"Chitambo  spoke  many  wise  words  to  those 
poor  men  who  mourned  their  master.  And  in 
his  town  he  permitted  them  to  prepare  Living- 
stone's body  for  the  journey.  In  Chitambo's 
town  the  heart  of  Livingstone  was  buried  near  a 
great  tree  that  was  a  mark  for  that  grave.  With 
a  knife  they  cut  upon  that  tree  the  name  of 
Livingstone. 

"They  wrapped  the  body  in  cloth,  and  again 
they  wrapped  it  in  bark.  They  said  'good-by'  to 
their  friend  Chitambo  and  to  the  people  of  Ilala; 
they  went  off  on  the  paths  to  the  sea  carrying 
their  dead  master. 

"For  nine  moons  they  walked  upon  that  jour- 
ney and  God  cared  for  them.  Many  troubles 
they  saw  upon  that  journey,  but  none  conquered 
them.  Some  tribes  were  friendly  to  them  and 
some  unfriendly.  Once  they  feared  that  the  body 
of  their  master  would  be  stolen.    Then  they  pre- 


MORE  ABOUT  LIVINGSTONE  103 

tended  to  carry  it  away  to  bury  it.  But  they  did 
not  bury  it.  They  made  a  new  cover  for  it.  The 
old  cover  of  the  bark  of  trees  they  threw  away, 
and  about  the  body  they  wrapped  calico  until 
you  would  certainly  have  said, — those  men  are 
carrying  a  load  of  calico.  Now  none  of  the  tribes 
by  the  way  knew  that  the  body  of  a  white  man 
was  among  the  loads. 

"This  long  work  of  carrying  their  master,  those 
black  men  did  because  they  loved  him ;  they  were 
faithful  men.  When  they  came  at  last  to  the 
beach,  they  delivered  the  body  to  the  white  men 
there,  and  they  were  praised. 

"The  body  was  known  by  the  old  scar  on  the 
arm,  where  the  lion  had  wounded  Livingstone 
long  days  before  at  Mabotsa,  so  the  body  was  re- 
ceived by  the  white  men.  By  them  it  was  sent 
across  the  sea.  And  Susi  and  Chuma  were  sent 
across  the  sea  to  tell  the  people  of  Livingstone's 
tribe  all  the  last  things  of  Livingstone  and  to 
receive  the  thanks  of  the  people  of  his  tribe  for 
their  long  carrying  of  Livingstone's  body. 

"That  body  the  white  people  buried  in  a  great 
house  of  God  that  is  in  their  great  town.1    They 

1  Westminster  Abbey  in  London. 


104      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

keep  his  memory;  they  count  the  lakes  and  the 
rivers  that  he  found;  they  destroy  the  things  of 
slaving  where  he  said  that  they  must  destroy 
them.  They  send  missionaries  in  companies 
upon  the  paths  where  he  walked  alone.  They 
do  not  let  his  name  die.  Black  men  who  hear  his 
name,  as  we  hear  it,  never  forget  that  name  again. 
We  ignorant  ones  who  say  that  the  spirits  of  the 
dead  return  to  harm  us — what  will  we  be  saying 
about  this  white  man  who  is  dead  since  Mr.  Krug 
was  a  baby,  and  only  good  things  spring  from 
remembrance  of  him?" 

"I  say  that  he  is  the  ancestor  of  missionaries!" 
said  Akulu. 

"I  say  that  God,  when  He  built  the  house  that 
is  Africa,  made  a  servant  to  furnish  it,"  said  Oton 
the  elder. 

"I  say  that  a  blacksmith  could  not  have  done 
better  than  Susi  and  Chuma  did,"  said  the  black- 
smith of  Asok. 


CHAPTER     IV:        AN      ADVENTURE      WITH 
DWARFS 


CHAPTER  IV:    AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS 

THE  next  day  after  school,  Me  jo  presented 
himself  to  his  father  in  the  palaver  house. 

"I  am  going  with  Assam  when  he  goes  to  teach 
the  school  at  Mekok,"  he  said.  "Some  boy  must 
go  with  him  and  I  must  be  that  boy.  I  told  Mr. 
Krug  this  morning  that  I  must  be  that  boy,  and 
now  I  tell  you." 

"How  do  you  mean — you  must"  said  Akulu. 
"Who  has  tied  you  to  this  journey?  When  I 
look  at  you  I  see  you  still  a  child  and  not  yet  a 
person  to  go  on  long  journeys." 

"No  one  has  tied  me,  but  my  own  heart  has 
tied  me.  I  see  that  for  a  person  of  the  tribe  of 
God,  even  if  he  is  no  more  than  a  child,  there 
is  work  to  do." 

"I  hear,"  said  Akulu,  "and  I  agree.  Because 
I  want  a  boy  of  mine  if  he  must  be  a  Christian, 
to  be  a  Christian  with  courage.  When  do  you 
leave?" 

"School  closed  to-day  and  we  leave  day  after 
to-morrow." 

107 


108      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Two  days  later,  at  the  hour  of  the  rising  of  the 
sun,  there  was  a  farewell  meeting  for  the  boys 
who  were  going  to  teach  the  vacation  schools. 
Under  the  eaves  of  the  school  house  they  left  the 
loads  they  must  carry  on  their  journey,  and  went 
in  to  their  meeting.  Many  people  of  the  tribe  of 
God  were  there  to  bless  these  boys  before  they 
went.  Me  jo's  mother  was  there;  she  looked  at 
her  boy  in  his  white  singlet  and  his  bright  loin 
cloth,  sitting  down  in  the  company  of  the  young 
men  who  were  going  upon  such  lonely  journeys. 
She  could  not  sing  with  her  friends  when  they 
sang  the  songs  they  love. 

"Everywhere  with  Jesus  I  can  safely  go,"  they 
sang.  And  they  sang — "Faith  is  the  Victory." 
But  she  could  not  sing  with  them  that  morning. 
Ze  Zom  prayed  for  them,  and  in  her  heart  she 
could  pray.  Mr.  Krug  said  wise  words  to  them, 
but  she  did  not  listen  to  those  wise  words.  Many 
questions  troubled  her  heart: 

"Where  will  my  boy  sleep  to-night? 

"They  say  there  is  a  great  river  to  cross  on  that 
journey.  Ah,  God,  do  not  let  him  drown  in  that 
river.    I  have  no  other  son ! 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  109 

"Will  the  women  of  that  strange  town  give 
him  good  food  to  eat?" 

These  questions  troubled  her.  Presently  she 
saw  the  boys  rise  to  go  away.  They  crowded 
about  their  loads  that  were  under  the  eaves. 
These  loads  were  carefully  tied  into  a  rattan 
casing,  with  shoulder  straps  made  of  soft  strands 
of  plantain  fiber.  When  the  boys  slipped  their 
arms  into  these  straps  the  loads  just  fitted  their 
backs. 

Assam  had  a  heavy  load  of  slates  and  school 
books.  Mejo  carried  their  little  personal  belong- 
ings— some  brass  rings  and  needles  and  fish  hooks 
and  matches — these  were  to  buy  food  and  lodging 
by  the  way.  He  carried  their  lantern  and  a  clock. 
On  top  of  his  load  and  of  every  load  there  was  a 
little  piece  of  dried  fish.  Mr.  Krug  gave  this 
present  to  every  boy  for  a  great  treat.  Now 
Me  jo's  mother  put  a  corn  cake  upon  Assam's 
load  and  upon  Me  jo's  load. 

"Walk  well,"  she  said,  and  every  one  said  to 
those  little  caravans, — 

"Walk  well— God  keep  you!" 

The  boys,  leaning  forward  a  little  under  the 
weight  of  their  loads,  looked  gravely  at  the  mem- 


110      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

bers  of  their  elan  gathered  about  them  in  the 
early  morning  light.  Already  they  felt  pangs 
of  the  homesickness  that  is  a  familiar  sorrow  to 
the  African.    They  said,  "We  must  go!" 

"Go  on!" 

And  they  walked  away,  all  leaning  forward  a 
little  because  of  their  loads.  They  were  still 
walking  in  a  group  until  they  should  come  to  the 
first  four  partings  of  the  way,  when  they  would 
separate  into  four  companies.  And  so  at  part- 
ings of  the  way  they  would  continue  to  separate 
all  day  until  two  and  two  would  be  left  to  walk 
together. 

At  noon  of  this  day,  Assam  and  Me  jo  came  to 
a  fork  in  the  path  where  their  last  two  friends 
must  leave  them.  Here  the  four  sat  down  to  eat 
their  corn  cakes.  From  a  running  stream  near- 
by they  drank,  making  cups  of  great  leaves.  In 
the  thick  shade  of  the  forest  there  was  no  yellow 
fall  of  sunlight.  One  path  ran  brown  among  the 
roots  of  trees.  It  was  a  worn  path — even  a  white 
man  could  have  followed  that  path.  But  the 
second  path  at  the  forking  of  the  way  was  a  path 
so  thin — such  a  thread  of  a  path — that  a  white 
man  might  easily  pass  by  and  never  see  it.    This 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  111 

was  the  way  to  the  dwarf  people  who  followed 
the  little  dwarf  headman,  Be. 

Oton's  son,  Obam,  was  going  to  spend  the  va- 
cation speaking  the  Word  of  God  to  the  dwarfs. 
Little  Minla,  a  boy  of  twelve  and  one  of  the  white 
doctor's  errand  boys,  was  with  him.  These  two 
boys  had  been  very  carefully  chosen  for  this  work. 
They  had  a  good  reputation  for  endurance. 
Work  among  the  tribes  of  the  dwarfs  is  very 
difficult;  Obam  and  his  companion  would  have 
much  wandering  before  they  would  sleep  again 
on  the  beds  or  eat  out  of  the  kettles  of  their  own 
town. 

"Where  will  you  sleep  to-night?"  Obam  asked 
Assam. 

"I  will  sleep  in  Aka's  town,"  said  he. 

"That  is  too  far,"  said  Obam,  "I  know  this 
path  better  than  you  do.  The  houses  of  that 
town  will  be  barred  for  the  night  before  you  reach 
there.  Sleep  with  us  among  the  dwarfs.  We 
had  word  on  Sunday  that  they  are  in  their  little 
old  clearing  by  the  Bekua  river,  drying  the  meat 
of  the  monkeys  they  killed  on  their  last  hunt." 

So  the  four  boys  went  by  way  of  the  thread 


112      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

of  a  trail  through  the  deep  forest  to  the  dwarf 
clearing. 

No  human  being  stirred  in  that  clearing  when 
the  school  boys  came  out  of  the  shadow  of  the 
forest  into  the  sunny  open.  Little  shelters  built 
of  leaves  were  there,  fires  burned  in  the  shelters. 
Fires  burned  in  the  center  of  the  clearing,  and 
upon  forked  sticks  about  these  fires  hung  the 
meat  of  monkeys. 

A  white  man  would  have  thought  that  the  in- 
habitants of  that  settlement  were  far  away,  but 
the  school  boys  knew  that  bright  eyes  were  watch- 
ing them  from  the  near  wall  of  the  forest.  They 
laid  their  loads  aside,  sighing  with  relief.  The 
biggest  shelter  of  leaves  they  knew  must  be  the 
palaver  house;  there  they  sat  down,  sure  that  the 
dwarfs  would  soon  be  coming  to  salute  them. 

Oton,  the  father  of  Obam,  was  a  friend  of  Be, 
;the  headman  of  this  group.  Often  Oton  had 
followed  them  to  trade  the  things  of  "real  peo- 
ple" for  dried  meat  and  honey  and  nuts, — "The 
things  of  dwarfs."  Obam  had  come  with  his 
father  on  these  trading  expeditions,  and  when 
Be  saw  from  his  hiding  place  the  face  of  his 
friend's  son,  he  came  quickly  to  salute  him.  After 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  113 

him  came  many  little  brown  bodies  of  dwarf  men 
and  women  and  children.  Soon  that  little  leafy- 
shelter  was  full  of  these — who  looked  in  silence 
at  the  beautiful  young  men  of  the  Bulu  tribe,  so 
grand  in  their  singlets  and  their  loin  cloths. 

Some  of  the  dwarf  men  were  no  bigger  than 
Me  jo.  Some  were  bigger,  but  none  was  so  big 
as  Assam.  The  women  were  very  little  women, 
they  wore  leaf  aprons  and  tails  of  grass.  The 
men  wore  loin  cloths  of  the  bark  of  trees.  Be 
himself  wore  a  loin  cloth  given  him  by  Oton.  He 
was  hoping,  as  he  looked  at  Obam,  that  there  was 
much  line  goods  for  him  in  the  loads. 

"I  greet  you  all,"  said  Be  to  the  school  boys ; 
and  they  greeted  him. 

"I  ask  you — why  have  you  come  to  us  at  this 
time?  Is  it  because  of  the  meat  of  the  last  hunt 
that  is  now  drying  by  the  fires?  Did  the  news 
of  that  meat  bring  you  with  cloth  and  other  goods 
to  trade  for  it?  Much  honey  I  have  in  little 
gourds,  do  you  wish  to  trade  for  it?  Or  nuts,  do 
you  wish?  Open  up  the  loads  quickly  so  that  I 
may  see  the  beautiful  goods  brought  to  me  by 
Obam  the  son  of  Oton." 

"Two  of  those  loads  are  on  a  journey,"  said 


114      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Obam.  "They  sleep  but  one  night  in  your  town. 
And  these  two  loads  that  are  mine  are  not  loads 
of  barter.  They  are  my  blanket  to  cover  me  at 
night  and  a  lantern  and  some  oil.  There  are 
besides  some  of  the  words  of  God  that  I  have 
brought  for  your  ears.  Ah,  Be — headman  of  this 
people — my  father,  Oton,  and  other  great  men 
of  the  Bulu  tribe  who  are  now  members  of  the 
tribe  of  God — they  desire  to  share  with  you  the 
"Things  from  above."  So  they  have  sent  two  of 
their  sons  to  open  for  you  these  things  that  have 
been  hidden  from  you  in  the  past." 

"As  for  me,"  said  Be,  "I  have  no  use  for  the 
words  of  which  you  speak.  They  are  not  for  us. 
They  are  for  the  white  people.  I  believe  that 
trouble  will  come  upon  those  black  people  who 
follow  these  new  things.  And  even  if  great  black 
chiefs  agree  to  these  new  things  and  follow  the 
white  man's  God — where  will  I  end  if  I  go  on 
that  path?  Do  the  men  who  follow  the  new 
things  make  medicine  for  the  hunt?  Do  they 
know  a  charm  to  protect  those  who  climb  trees 
and  the  steep  cliffs  ?  There  is  no  profit  for  me  or 
for  my  people  in  the  new  way.  I  myself,  before 
the  last  rainy  season,  I  went  to  see  the  white  man 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  115 

who  is  the  man  of  God  and  I  begged  him  for  dried 
fish — No!  I  begged  him  for  rum — No!  I  begged 
him  for  a  leaf  of  white  man's  tobacco  as  big  as 
an  eye  lash — No!  I  said  'I  have  a  child  at  home 
that  is  a  girl  child — give  me  a  little  piece  of  cloth 
that  I  may  tie  it  about  her  head.' — No! 

"Then  I  said  to  that  white  man, — 'I,  the  head- 
man Be,  have  now  come  to  your  village  for  the 
first  time — and  am  I  to  leave  without  a  present? 
Nothing  to  carry  away  in  my  hand?'  And  the 
white  man  said,  'This  is  not  a  town  where  pres- 
ents are  made.  This  is  a  town  where  there  are 
teachers  and  teaching  of  the  Word  of  God — He 
who  created  you.  The  old  law  of  God  is  knowTn 
in  this  town  and  here  your  children  may  come 
and  learn  wisdom.  Here  your  sick  may  come 
and  be  healed.  But  if  you  come  to  salute  me 
ten  tens  of  times,'  said  that  white  man,  'and  beg 
me  with  as  many  beggings  as  there  are  stars 
above  for  the  goods  of  the  white  man  and  the 
riches  of  men,  I  will  never  give  you  of  these  as 
much  as  an  eyelash.'  " 

"  'If  that  is  so,'  I  told  that  white  man,  *I  am 
going.'  And  I  went.  And  I  have  never  desired 
the  new  things  of  which  I  heard  that  day.    I  do 


116      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

not  desire  them  now.  I  desire  all  the  things  that 
the  men  of  your  father's  tribe  carry  up  from  the 
beach  on  their  backs, — the  good  things  of  the 
white  man,  rum,  and  cloth,  and  beads,  and  iron 
pots  that  are  not  quickly  broken  as  clay  pots  are. 
I  beg  of  you,  open  your  loads  and  we  will  bargain 
for  the  goods.  Then  you  may  go  with  loads  of 
dried  meat  and  honey  and  nuts." 

"There  is  no  trade  goods  in  my  loads,"  said 
Obam.  "I  come  on  another  palaver.  Every 
morning  at  dawn,  and  every  evening  when  the 
stars  are  created,  I  will  teach  you  of  the  things 
of  God.  These  words  that  you  hate  before  you 
have  heard  them — perhaps  you  will  love  when 
you  have  heard  them.  All  this  moon  and  the 
next  moon  I  will  open  to  you  this  wisdom." 

"We  are  not  sitting  down  in  one  place,  as  your 
father  does,"  said  Be.  "We  people  who  are 
dwarfs  must  do  the  forest  work,  we  must  go  on 
the  many  little  paths  hunting  and  fishing  and 
nutting.  So  it  cannot  be  that  you  will  visit  us 
for  two  moons.  We  rise  and  go  away  from  this 
place  to-morrow." 

"Where  you  go,  I  too,  I  will  go,"  said  Obam. 

"And  sleep  where  we  sleep?" 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  117 

"As  you  say." 

"And  eat  what  we  eat?" 

"Certainly." 

"Since  I  was  born!"  cried  out  Be,  "I  never  saw 
a  son  of  your  father's  tribe  that  would  endure 
these  things.  What  new  customs  people  begin 
to  have!"  And  he  slapped  his  thigh  and  laughed. 
All  the  little  dwarf  people  laughed.  They  all 
laughed  at  the  foolishness  of  the  four  Bulu  boys 
who  sat  in  their  palaver  house  looking  very  grave 
and  dignified. 

That  night  was  a  night  of  full  moon.  There 
was  a  great  sound  of  drumming  in  the  little  clear- 
ing; with  the  palms  of  their  hands  the  drummers 
beat  the  skin  that  was  stretched  on  the  heads  of 
the  upright  drums.  In  the  silver  moonlight,  the 
dark  little  bodies  capered  to  the  sound  of  that 
drumming. 

When  Obam  lit  his  lantern  that  light  was  a 
golden  light.  He  drummed  upon  the  call  drum 
a  call  to  assemble.  Then  he  sat  upon  the  call 
drum.  The  four  Bulu  boys  sitting  together  by 
the  golden  light  of  the  lantern  began  to  sing. 
One  by  one  the  dwarfs  drew  away  from  the  dance 
— they  gathered  to  the  sound  of  that  singing — 


118      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

even  the  drummers  at  last  came  near.  The  sing- 
ing was  about  the  love  of  God.  Presently  among 
all  those  people  who  sat  in  a  dark  group  upon 
the  ground,  Obam  rose  to  tell  them  of  the  re- 
membering with  which  Zambe *  had  remem- 
bered them. 

"All  these  generations  of  men  who  said  'He- 
who-created-us'  has  forgotten  us — they  were  all 
mistaken.  'He-who-created'  remembered — so 
much  He  remembered  that  He  made  a  visit. 
That  visit  was  in  the  body  of  the  son  of  'Him- 
who-created.'  That  son  was  the  Lord  Jesus.  And 
He  is  the  chief  of  the  new  tribe  that  is  being  cre- 
ated by  Zambe — 'He-who-created'  all  tribes. 
Jesus  is  the  headman.  He  shows  those  who  fol- 
low Him  the  custom  of  the  new  tribe  that  is  a 
different  custom  from  the  old  custom  of  the  black 
people,  and  the  law  of  this  custom  is  ten  words 
of  law.    He  alone  knows  the  path  beyond  death. 

"Many  things  of  all  this  news  I  will  tell  you 
on  the  nights  of  these  two  moons,"  said  Obam. 
"But  now  we  who  have  traveled  to-day, — we  will 
go  to  bed." 

The  dwarfs  laughed  as  they  listened  to  Obam 

1  Bulu  name  for  the  Creator. 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  119 

and  his  news — a  laughter  of  surprise  and  of 
amusement.  They  laughed  and  talked  together 
as  they  moved  away  in  the  moonlight.  Soon  the 
drums  throbbed  again  and  the  dancers  leaped 
above  their  black  shadows. 

The  four  Bulu  boys  lay  beside  the  fire  in  the 
palaver  house  that  was  no  more  than  a  little  leafy 
roof.  Those  dwarf  beds  were  too  small  for  the 
Bulu  boys,  they  twisted  and  turned  and  stuck 
their  legs  out  into  space.  All  four  were  a  little 
homesick. 

Me  jo  said  to  his  brother, — 

"Ah,  Assam,  if  they  laugh  at  us  in  the  town 
where  we  are  going — how  I  shall  feel  shame  in 
my  heart.  How  can  we  bear  it  if  they  laugh  at 
us!" 

"How  did  Obam  bear  it?"  said  Assam.  "God 
gives  the  strength  to  bear  it.  What  is  your  name 
to-night?    You  who  run  from  laughter!" 

The  next  morning  Assam  and  Me  jo  went 
away  on  their  own  path.  Sleeping  in  the  villages 
by  the  way  they  made  four  days'  journey  without 
accident.  On  the  fifth  day  they  were  detained  by 
a  headman  who  asked  many  questions  about  the 


120      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

things  of  God.  That  is  why  the  boys  came  late 
to  the  crossing  of  the  So  river. 

When  they  came  out  of  the  forest  to  the  broad 
water  the  last  red  was  in  the  sky.  There  was  no 
village  on  the  west  side  of  the  river,  and  on  the 
east  side  the  village  was  set  back  from  the  bank. 
The  canoes  of  the  village  were  grouped  against 
the  side  of  that  further  bank.  The  sound  of 
drumming  came  across  the  water — all  the  cries 
of  Assam  and  Me  jo  were  lost  in  the  drumming. 
They  shouted  themselves  hoarse,  before  Assam 
said, — 

"Those  people  will  dance  all  night.  We  must 
just  sleep  where  we  are."  And  he  set  about 
gathering  wood  for  a  night  fire. 

Never  before  in  his  life  had  Me  jo  slept  like 
this  without  arms  and  without  shelter.  Always 
when  he  had  camped  in  the  forest  there  were 
"real  men"  of  the  tribe  with  bows  and  arrows 
and  spears ;  then  he  had  slept  in  a  great  trust  of 
his  father  and  his  father's  friends.  Now  he 
watched  his  brother  in  the  growing  dusk  with 
a  fear  that  he  was  ashamed  to  speak.  Assam 
laid  his  fire  by  the  water's  edge  where  there  was 
a  little  sandy  clearing.     He  filled  his  little  iron 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  121 

pot  with  the  river  water  and  set  it  on  the  glowing 
heart  of  his  fire.  He  put  a  great  snail  into  the 
pot. 

"It  is  good  that  we  found  a  snail  this  morn- 
ing," said  he.  "You  have  the  salt — put  in  a 
pinch." 

He  took  a  corn  loaf  out  of  his  pack.  Upon 
some  leaves  that  Mejo  had  spread  out  like  a  mat, 
the  boys  sat  down.  They  heard  the  rushing  of 
the  great  river  and  they  felt  a  loneliness  come 
into  their  hearts. 

"So  much  water  is  too  much  water,"  said  Mejo, 
rather  anxiously. 

Then  the  pot  began  to  boil — that  sound  was  a 
sound  of  home.  The  night  darkened  about  them 
but  their  fire  sent  up  ruddy  flames.  Above  them 
the  stars  were  thick  as  rain;  and  the  thoughts 
of  these  two  boys  called  upon  God,  the  Maker 
of  stars,  to  protect  them.  Old  fears  of  spirits 
who  walk  at  night  to  do  mischief  to  men,  were 
stirring  in  their  hearts,  but  they  quieted  these 
old  fears  with  the  new  hopes  and  the  new  prom- 
ises. They  feared  the  beasts  of  the  forest,  but 
their  fire  should  frighten  these. 

They  ate  their  supper  and  lay  down  upon  the 


122      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

bed  of  leaves.  When  the  late  moon  rose,  Assam 
and  Me  jo  were  sleeping  beside  a  fire  and  a  thread 
of  smoke.  And  when  the  guinea  fowl  called 
before  the  dawn  they  woke — as  travelers  must 
awake  when  the  guinea  calls — as  safe  and  sound 
as  any  other  sons  of  their  father's  house. 

"That  was  a  good  night,"  said  Assam.  He 
began  to  call  for  a  ferryman,  and  when  the  first 
light  of  day  was  gray  upon  the  water,  there  came 
a  man  with  a  canoe  to  ferry  them  across. 

That  day  when  the  sun  was  in  the  middle,  the 
boys  knew  that  they  were  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Mekok.  In  a  town  where  they  rested  they 
were  told, — "You  will  cross  but  two  streams  and 
beyond  the  second  stream  you  will  find  the  gar- 
dens of  Mekok.  The  women  of  Mekok  will  then 
be  upon  the  path  returning  from  their  gardens 
to  the  village."  And  this  was  true.  The  women 
of  Mekok  were  indeed  upon  the  path.  They 
cried  out  when  they  saw  the  school  boys  with  their 
load  of  slates. 

"They  have  come — Akeva!  The  teachers  have 
come.    Now  we  believe  the  word  of  Asala !" 

Back  in  the  gardens  other  women  heard  the 
news.     Me  jo  heard  the  glad  shout  of  his  little 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  123 

sister  as  she  ran  through  the  thick  screen  of  the 
cassava  plants.  Presently  that  little  brown  body 
sprang  into  the  path  and  embraced  the  brothers. 
Such  laughter!  Such  shouting!  Such  clamor 
for  news  of  home!  Asala  ran  before  them  into 
the  village.  She  dared  to  go  into  the  palaver 
house,  though  her  husband  had  not  sent  for  her. 
Out  of  breath  she  told  him  that  the  teachers  had 
come  and  that  they  were  her  brothers. 

Now  the  headman  saw  the  boys  enter  the  clear- 
ing from  the  forest.  They  wore  singlets  and  loin 
cloths.  They  leaned  a  little  forward  under  their 
loads.  The  smallest  carried  a  lantern.  They 
walked  with  the  plodding  gait  of  travelers  who 
have  walked  for  many  days. 

"Those  boys  are  tired,"  said  Efa,  "it  would  be 
well  that  you  cook  them  good  food.  Ask  your 
ntyi 1  to  kill  a  chicken  for  those  boys ;  and  you 
yourself  make  the  mango  nut  gravy  for  that 
chicken." 

Thus  were  Assam  and  Me  jo  kindly  welcomed 
in  the  town  of  Efa  Nlem.  Asala  ran  to  cook  for 
them.    Efa  received  them  in  the  palaver  house. 


*A  senior  wife  into  whose  care  a  little  girl  wife  is  given,  and 
with  whom  she  will  remain  until  she  is  marriageable. 


124      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

They  laid  aside  their  loads  and  sat  at  ease  under 
the  brown  roof.  The  villagers  gathered  to  look 
at  the  teachers,  little  naked  boys  clustered  in  lit- 
tle groups  and  murmured  their  little  comments  to 
each  other.  But  there  was  no  great  conversation 
as  yet  between  Efa  and  his  guests.  There  would 
be  time  for  that.    Only  Efa  said, — 

"I  hope  that  you  have  brought  white  man's 
medicine." 

And  Assam  said,  "Yes" — he  had  skin  medi- 
cine and  medicine  for  the  heat  in  the  body  and 
medicine  for  ulcers. 

"That  is  good,"  said  Efa.  "With  what  they 
have  my  people  will  buy  those  medicines."  And 
he  began  to  smoke  his  long  pipe  in  silence. 

Me  jo  looked  at  Efa  when  Efa  was  not  look- 
ing at  him.  "I  like  him,"  he  thought;  "but  I 
fear  him  too,  and  that  is  good."  Me  jo  looked 
about  at  the  little  groups  of  boys  and  at  the 
women  who  were  looking  at  him.  Three  or  four 
real  men  were  sitting  by  the  ashes  of  the  fires. 
Me  jo  was  embarrassed  to  look  at  them.  But  in 
his  heart  he  felt  important.  It  was  fine  to  have 
so  many  people  concerned  about  him  and  about 
Assam.     He  remembered  his  father's  story  of 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  125 

Ngutu  and  of  how  Ngutu  first  came  to  Abiete. 
"I  too,"  thought  Mejo,  "am  a  teacher  of  the  new 
things." 

And  suddenly  he  said,  "I  am  thirsty!" 

Immediately  two  little  girls  rose  and  went  out 
into  the  sunlight — their  little  grass  bustles  beat- 
ing about  their  brown  legs.  From  a  nearby  hut 
they  returned  with  gourds  of  water.  One  pre- 
sented her  gourd  to  Assam,  the  other  drew  a 
corncob  stopper  from  the  neck  of  her  gourd  and 
presented  it  to  Mejo. 

As  Mejo  raised  the  gourd  to  his  lips  he  met 
the  eyes  of  a  boy  in  the  shadow  of  a  corner. 
This  boy  was  almost  a  man,  his  hair  was  finely 
dressed  and  studded  with  blue  beads.  He  wore 
a  splendid  loin  cloth.  About  his  arms  were  many 
ivory  bracelets  and  about  his  neck  hung  a  great 
amulet. 

"That  young  fellow  has  such  style,"  thought 
Mejo,  "that  he  must  be  the  headman's  son.  But 
he  looked  at  us  without  the  friendly  eye." 

Now  Efa  told  them  that  they  might  go  with 
Asala. 

"You  are  weary  and  you  should  rest,"  he  said. 
Asala's  ntyi  is  named  Bilo'o.    Lie  upon  the  bed 


126      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

in  her  house  until  the  time  of  the  setting  of  the 
sun.  Then  return  to  speak  with  me  of  the  many- 
things  of  school." 

In  the  house  of  Bilo'o  there  was  happy  talk  of 
home.  There  were  portions  of  good  food  laid 
out  upon  green  leaves  by  willing  little  brown 
hands.  About  the  doors  of  Bilo'o's  hut  clustered 
the  persistent  bodies  of  little  boys  who  murmured 
together.  Back  of  these  little  boys  were  older 
boys,  silently  looking  at  their  teachers, — those 
young  benefactors  who  had  come  to  open  up  the 
new  paths  to  the  feet  of  their  tribe.  Women 
entered  the  hut  quietly  by  the  back  door.  They 
were  the  women  who  were  a  long  time  wishing 
to  hear  the  Word  of  God;  they  brought  little 
presents  of  food. 

Presently  Assam  said  to  Me  jo — very  low — 

"Don't  be  proud!" 

And  Mejo  said  softly — "I  hear!  I  will  keep 
pride  down.  Did  you  see  the  young  man  who 
does  not  like  us?" 

"He  that  sat  in  the  shadow?  I  saw  him.  Even 
so,  we  must  try  to  draw  him  to  us." 

That  night  Efa  and  Assam  spoke  long  to- 
gether of  the  things  of  school. 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  127 

"That  big  new  house  at  the  end  of  the  clear- 
ing is  your  school  house.  My  people  have  been 
a  long  time  building  it.  All  the  boys  of  the  neigh- 
borhood have  helped.  Asala  told  us  how  we 
must  cut  logs  of  the  mesung *  tree  for  seats. 
There  are  rows  of  seats  in  the  school  house.  The 
walls  are  very  low  as  Asala  said  they  should  be. 
And  for  yourself  we  have  built  a  house  too.  It 
is  a  good  little  house,  all  new,  and  near  the  school 
house.  There  are  two  beds  in  that  house.  There 
is  a  window  in  that  house  like  a  white  man's  win- 
dow. A  woman  has  made  a  fire  between  the  two 
beds  and  now,  if  it  pleases  you,  you  may  go  to 
your  house.  Ah,  Bekalli!"  said  Efa,  and  a  boy 
rose  in  answer.  "Take  your  teacher  to  his  new 
house." 

At  this  word  the  youth  with  the  unfriendly 
eyes  rose  from  his  place. 

"Ah,  father,"  said  he,  "I  have  a  word  to  say!" 

"Say  it!"  said  Efa.  Every  one  looked  at  the 
young  man.  The  firelight  shone  upon  his  bright 
beads,  his  ivory  bracelets,  and  his  body  rubbed 
with  oil.  In  his  dark  face  his  eyes  and  his  teeth 
were  bright. 


irrhe  umbrella  tree. 


128      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"Since  I  was  born,"  said  he,  "did  you  ever 
build  me  a  house?  What  day  did  you  ever  say 
to  me  as  you  now  say  to  this  stranger, — 'Go 
sleep  in  the  new  house  I  have  built  you!'  This 
is  a  question  I  ask  you!" 

Efa  looked  in  surprise  at  his  son. 

"Ah,  Bekalli,"  said  he,  "I  hear  with  astonish- 
ment this  word  of  reproach.  Are  not  all  the 
houses  in  my  village  your  houses  ?  All  my  houses 
are  your  houses.  Why  should  you  grieve  because 
I  show  a  kindness  to  these  young  men  who  have 
come  to  do  us  the  work  of  teaching?  What  shall 
I  say  further?" 

"This  you  may  further  say,"  shouted  Bekalli 
trembling, — "You  may  say  that  you  give  me 
the  new  house — I  who  am  your  eldest  son.  Let 
the  sons  of  strangers  sleep  in  the  house  that  is 
outside  the  village." 

"But  it  leaks,"  said  Efa  mildly. 

"Then  let  the  strangers  patch  the  roof  with 
leaves.  Doubtless  all  the  roofs  of  their  father's 
town  are  patched  with  leaves.  Let  them  cut  the 
grass  that  grows  about  that  house.  And,  if  they 
fear  the  evil  spirits  that  come  about  that  house 


AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  DWARFS  129 

at  night,  let  their  new  God  protect  them;  give 
me  the  new  house!" 

Efa  looked  in  silence  at  his  son,  who  continued 
to  tremble,  standing  up  very  straight  in  the  fire- 
light.   Then  he  said, 

"There  is  a  headman  in  this  town  and  I  am 
that  headman.  Our  guests  will  sleep  in  the 
house  I  have  built  for  them.  And  to-morrow  we 
will  begin  to  cut  bark  for  the  walls  of  a  house  I 
will  build  you,  and  to  gather  leaves  for  the 
thatch." 

"If  you  build  me  ten  houses,"  said  Bekalli,  "I 
will  never  sleep  in  one  of  them!"  And  he  put  his 
leg  over  the  high  sill  of  the  door  and  went  off  into 
the  dark. 


CHAPTER  V:    ADVENTURES  OF  ASSAM  AND 
MEJO 


CHAPTER   V:     ADVENTURES    OF    ASSAM    AND 
MEJO 

NOW  began  for  the  two  brothers  a  time  of 
great  busyness;  there  were  all  the  things 
of  school  to  be  made  ready. 

Little  lads  with  brooms  of  leaves  swept  out  the 
school  house  with  its  rows  and  rows  of  log  seats. 
As  they  scrambled  about  under  Me  jo's  leader- 
ship they  made  their  little  silly  comments  upon 
the  things  of  learning. 

"Now  we  shall  know  all  the  things  of  the  white 
man,"  they  told  one  another.  "And  about  the 
tribe  that  lives  down  in  the  earth  we  shall  know. 
And  about  the  many  moons  that  are  made  and 
that  are  lost  again;  and  about  a  country  that  is 
not  a  forest  country;  and  about  the  thing  that  is 
a  clock.  The  teacher  has  that  thing  and  it  shows 
a  sign  to  him  about  the  time  of  day — as  if  it  were 
the  sun." 

And  all  the  little  sweepers  paused  to  look  at 
Assam's  clock  where  it  ticked  on  a  little  rough 
table  at  the  end  of  the  school  room. 

133 


134     AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"Get  busy!"  said  Mejo  sternly,  and  once  more 
was  heard  the  rustle  of  their  brushy  brooms. 

Assam  hung  his  alphabetical  charts  about  the 
room.  All  his  little  adventurers  would  begin 
their  adventures  upon  these  charts.  And  they 
all  yearned  to  be  off ;  they  dropped  their  brooms 
to  stand  before  those  white  banners,  tattooed  with 
mystic  figures.  Daring  little  brown  fingers  ven- 
tured here  and  there  in  that  strange  country  until 
Mejo  forbade  them;  the  older  boys  of  the  vil- 
lage— like  copy-cats — cried  out  the  same  prohibi- 
tion. Others  hung  about  the  slates.  One  un- 
happy little  boy  dropped  a  slate  and  was  carried 
shrieking  to  Assam.  He  howled  and  he  trembled, 
rolling  horror-struck  eyes. 

"The  writing  stone  is  broken,"  said  the  bigger 
boys  who  had  captured  him,  and  the  captive 
writhed  in  their  hands. 

The  slate  was  not  broken,  but  an  awe  of  slates 
fell  upon  the  little  sweepers. 

The  next  morning  in  the  many  villages  of  that 
neighborhood  was  heard  the  first  drumming  of 
the  school  drum, — 

"The  promise  that  we  made  yesterday  we  keep  to-day ! 
"The  promise  that  we  made  yesterday  we  keep  to-day!" 


ASSAM  AND  MEJO  135 

The  villagers,  listening  to  the  clamor  of  that 
phrase  beaten  out  on  the  drum  of  Efa  Nlem's 
town,  knew  that  school  was  calling.  Every- 
where in  the  huts  little  boys  bustled  about,  wor- 
rying their  mothers  for  a  bite  to  eat  before  they 
went  to  school,  for  a  hen  to  pay  the  school  tuition, 
for  a  bottle  of  palm  oil,  for  a  basket  of  peanuts, 
— for  anything  with  which  to  pay  for  school. 

Bigger  lads  at  the  sound  of  that  drumming 
were  about  the  same  business.  They  took  ivory 
bracelets  off  their  own  arms,  leopards'  teeth  off 
their  own  necks.  They  twisted  the  long  vine  that 
is  the  bush  rope  into  marketable  coils,  they  looked 
long  at  knives  which  they  would  never  carry 
again,  but  must  pay  to  go  to  school.  Sad  part- 
ings took  place  that  day  between  boys  and  their 
possessions. 

In  the  palaver  houses  of  these  villages  the 
youth  of  the  tribe  went  to  inquire  of  age.  Every 
boy  must  receive  of  his  father  permission  to  do 
this  new  thing. 

Some  fathers  said,  "It  is  well,  go  in  peace  and, 
with  what  you  learn,  return  to  strengthen  the 
tribe." 


136     AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Some  fathers  said,  "Why  do  you  ask  me? 
Your  heart  is  set  on  it;  don't  bother  me." 

Some  fathers  raged  and  called  to  mind  the  old 
wisdom  of  the  tribe,  the  old  custom,  the  things 
of  magic — all  these  good  old  ways  that  would 
now  be  forgotten  because  all  the  fine  young  lads 
were  turning  away  to  foolishness. 

But  all  these  fathers  of  their  different  sorts — 
all  these  fathers  felt  deserted  and  lonely  when 
they  saw  the  little  companies  of  brown  bodies, 
laughing  and  chattering,  go  away  out  of  the  vil- 
lage to  school! 

"No  man  knows  where  this  will  end,"  they  said 
in  their  hearts. 

Sometimes  that  morning  when  the  school  drum 
was  calling,  a  little  girl  stole  into  the  palaver 
house  to  beg  of  her  father.  Some  little  girls 
never  found  courage  to  open  their  mouths,  they 
stood  about  idly  until  they  were  called  by  the 
women  who  were  going  to  the  gardens;  then 
they  went  slowly  away.  And  all  that  day  the 
elder  women  scolded  them  or  laughed  at  them, 
saying: 

"To-day  you  walk  like  a  worm  without  eyes." 

"You  are  as  slow  to-day  as  a  chameleon." 


ASSAM  AND  MEJO  137 

Some  little  girls  said  what  they  wanted, — 

"I  want  to  go  to  school!" 

"I  envy  those  who  go  to  school." 

"Ah,  Father,  me  too — permit  me  too!" 

"School!  What  next?  Shall  I  bring  a  curse 
on  my  town  by  sending  women  to  school!  Who 
would  marry  you  then?    Get  along!" 

In  the  school  house  Assam  was  writing  the 
names  of  the  boys  who  were  paying  their  tuition 
to  Me  jo.  The  pupils  stood  in  line;  one  at  a 
time  they  put  down  their  treasure  of  payment; 
they  murmured  their  names — watching  with  awe 
the  hand  of  Assam  traveling  over  paper  and 
leaving  a  trail  of  marks.  Some  were  so  taken 
out  of  themselves  that  they  could  not  speak  their 
names;  they  panted  for  their  turns  to  come  and 
when  at  last  they  stood  before  the  teacher,  with 
his  magic  hand,  they  fixed  him  with  vacant  eyes 
and  were  dumb. 

Some  coming  to  their  turn  had  no  tuition ;  these 
were  cast  out  weeping — to  return  again  to-mor- 
row, as  Assam  knew  very  well  they  would — with 
the  offering. 

Once  the  voice  that  answered  Assam  was  a 


138      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

girl's  voice,  and  he  looked  up  into  an  eager  girl's 
face. 

"My  name  is  Adda." 

"Does  your  father  permit  you  to  come  to 
school?" 

"My  father  does  not  know.    I  ran  away." 

"It  is  forbidden  that  a  girl  should  come  to 
school  without  her  owner's  permission.  To  re- 
ceive girls  who  have  run  away  would  be  to  hunt 
trouble  in  the  school." 

"We  told  her!"  cried  the  boys  in  a  line.  "And 
we  said,  who  wants  girls  in  school?  They  are  as 
stupid  as  hens!" 

"Be  still,"  said  Assam.  "If  you  ask, — who 
wants  the  girls  in  school  ?  I  will  tell  you  that  the 
teacher  wants  them.  Go  in  peace,"  he  said  to 
Adda.  "It  may  be  that  God  will  change  your 
father's  heart  and  then  you  may  return." 

She  went  away  crying. 

Another  girl's  voice  spoke,  and  this  was  Asala. 

"He  says  I  may,"  whispered  Asala,  over  the 
edge  of  the  table.  "I  am  to  go  to  school,  Efa 
permits  me." 

Her  eyes  were  brilliant  in  her  little,  soft,  brown 
face  that  was  not  tatooed.     She  laid  her  tuition 


ASSAM  AND  ME  JO  139 

before  her  brother  Me  jo, — it  was  a  fishing  net. 
Such  pride  was  in  her  heart  that  she  could  not 
conceal  it. 

"She  will  be  too  proud,"  said  a  boy  in  line,  and 
others  said  so.  But  the  teacher  frowned,  and 
again  it  was  still  while  the  name  of  Asala  was 
written  on  the  school  roll. 

At  the  end  of  ten  days  there  were  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  pupils  in  school.  There  were 
groups  of  ardent  adventurers  before  all  the  pri- 
mary charts.  Little  boys  and  big  boys  labored 
over  slates,  sticking  out  their  tongues ;  and  when 
the  slates  ran  short  there  were  classes  making 
marks  upon  the  sand  outside  the  school  house. 
Me  jo,  standing  before  his  classes  and  Assam  be- 
fore his,  struck  the  charts  with  pointers,  and 
there  was  a  murmur  of  response, 

"B— a=ba." 

«B— o=bo." 

These  were  the  little  murmurs  that  broke  the 
hot  silence  in  that  little  bark  shelter.  At  the 
opening  period  and  the  closing  all  those  young 
voices  sang  the  new  songs  that  they  were  so  quick 
to  learn.  With  a  curious  obedience  they  were  all 
day  obedient  to  their  young  teachers.    They  who 


140      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

had  run  so  wild  so  long  now  rose  on  signal  and 
were  seated  on  signal.  On  signal  they  spoke  or 
were  silent.  They  curbed  their  voices  and  their 
bodies  to  a  new  custom,  and  behind  their  tattoo 
their  faces  looked  out  with  a  common  expression 
of  discipline. 

Among  the  pupils,  many  were  as  old  as  Be- 
kalli,  Efa's  eldest  son.  But  Bekalli  never  came 
to  school.  Sometimes  he  stood  on  the  outside  of 
the  low  wall,  looking  in  and  smiling.  Some- 
times, when  the  real  men  of  the  village  passed  the 
school  house  on  the  way  to  hunt,  Bekalli  stopped 
at  the  open  door — leaning  on  his  bow-gun,  or 
signalling  to  the  older  boys.  He  never  saluted 
the  teacher  as  the  real  men  did. 

Once  on  a  bright  moonlight  night  when  As- 
sam lay  with  Me  jo  in  bed,  they  heard  a  murmur 
in  the  school  house.  Assam,  creeping  close  to 
trap  the  intruder,  saw  over  the  wall  the  head  of 
Bekalli.  He  stood  before  a  chart  that  was  very 
white  in  the  moonlight.  With  his  dark  finger 
he  traveled  from  letter  to  letter  and  to  himself 
he  murmured  their  names. 

"He  is  saying  the  names  of  letters,"  Assam 


ASSAM  AND  MEJO  141 

whispered  to  Me  jo  when  he  went  back  to  bed, 
"but  he  is  mistaking  them!" 

All  the  first  months  of  school  there  was  a  great 
contentment  in  the  town  of  Mekok.  Assam, 
speaking  the  Word  of  God  at  the  morning  and 
the  evening  prayers,  saw  more  and  more  brown 
bodies  gather  about  him  in  the  early  and  the  late 
dusk.  Women  who  had  begged  the  Word  of 
God  from  Asala's  little  store  now  received  a 
daily  portion  from  Assam,  and  went  away  to 
their  gardens  murmuring  over  and  over  the  verse 
of  the  morning  and  the  evening  lesson.  On  a 
Sunday  when  Assam  beat  the  call  to  the  service, 
many  real  men  came  to  hear  for  themselves  these 
new  things  that  were  rumored  everywhere.  Of 
an  evening  when  Assam  sat  in  his  little  house, 
one  and  another  would  come  to  ask  him  privately 
of  these  things — as  Nicodemus  came  to  Christ 
long  ago. 

To  the  house  of  the  two  brothers  there  came 
the  sick  who  desired  to  try  the  white  man's  medi- 
cine. Little  gaunt  children  devoured  by  itch 
were  healed,  poor  bodies  fading  away  with  ma- 
laria were  restored.  The  simple  drugs  for  simple 
ills  were  dispensed  by  the  boys,  who  put  away  the 


142      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

goods  received  for  medicine  with  the  goods  re- 
ceived for  tuition,  until  all  this  treasure  should 
be  carried  back  to  the  mission  at  the  close  of 
school. 

These  were  good  days.  There  could  be  no 
enemy,  you  would  have  said,  in  the  town  of  Me- 
kok.  Until  the  night  Efa  Nlem  fell  ill,— then 
trouble  came  as  thick  as  rain.  Assam  woke  to 
find  a  woman  shouting  at  his  door. 

"Rise,"  she  cried,  "and  make  medicine  for  the 
headman — he  is  dying!"  and  she  rushed  away. 

By  the  light  of  his  lantern,  Assam  found  the 
town  gathered  in  the  palaver  house.  Efa  lay 
upon  his  bed,  leaning  against  the  shoulder  of 
Bilo'o ;  his  breath  was  short  and  his  body  burned 
under  Assam's  hand.  But  he  was  not  uncon- 
scious. He  begged  Assam  to  give  him  the  white 
man's  medicine. 

"Ah,  my  son,"  he  said  to  Assam,  "I  am  dying!" 

Assam  gave  him  quinine.  But  when  two  days 
passed  and  the  heat  did  not  pass  from  Efa's 
body,  Assam  told  Me  jo  that  he  did  not  know 
what  to  do.  This  illness  did  not  look  like  the 
old  sickness  of  the  heat  in  the  body  that  the  white 
man  calls  malaria. 


ASSAM  AND  ME  JO  143 

On  the  second  day  the  great  medicine  man 
from  Medong  came  to  heal  Efa.  His  healing 
was  not  a  noisy  healing  as  so  much  witch  doctor- 
ing is  noisy.  This  famous  witch  doctor  made  a 
little  booth  for  himself  of  leaves,  and  his  com- 
munication with  the  sick  man  was  by  means  of 
a  bush  rope  strung  like  a  cord  between  the  leafy 
booth  and  the  body  of  Efa  where  he  lay  in  the 
palaver  house. 

"This  is  a  new  kind  of  charm,"  said  Assam  to 
Me  jo,  "I  think  he  learned  it  from  some  beach 
people." 

The  medicine  man  would  talk  with  no  one  but 
Bekalli.  Bekalli  alone  had  seen  his  face  during 
the  time  of  his  present  operations,  but  his  high 
rough  shout  like  the  bark  of  a  gorilla  awed  the 
villagers  where  they  sat  in  the  palaver  house. 
There  they  sat  and  sighed,  while  Efa  groaned, 
and  the  cord  of  bush  rope  attached  to  his  body 
was  jerked  and  trembled. 

Assam  and  Me  jo  felt  strange  now  in  the  vil- 
lage, they  felt  uneasy.  They  were  grieved  too, 
for  Efa  had  been  kind  to  them  and  Assam  feared 
that  he  was  about  to  die.  "If  he  dies,"  he 
thought,  sitting  with  Me  jo  in  his  little  house, 


144      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"then  the  town's  people  may  trouble  us.  They 
may  say  that  we  gave  him  a  witch."  Me  jo,  look- 
ing at  Assam's  face,  read  these  thoughts  there. 

At  this  moment  a  real  man  of  the  town  stood 
at  the  door. 

"You  are  summoned,"  he  said,  and  he  went 
away. 

This  was  bad.  The  two  boys  did  not  dare  hesi- 
tate, they  followed  him  immediately.  In  the 
palaver  house  they  were  fixed  by  every  eye,  only 
Efa  did  not  gaze  at  them.  He  lay  as  if  he  slept. 
There  was  a  great  stillness  in  the  palaver  house 
and  the  brothers,  standing  besides  Efa's  bed, 
were  still.  Me  jo  felt  terribly  frightened;  he 
trembled,  and  Assam  put  his  warm  arm  around 
his  little  brother's  shoulders. 

Suddenly  Bekalli  rose  and  began  to  speak. 

"You  all  know  that  I  killed  a  leopard  ten  days 
ago  with  my  own  spear.  With  your  eyes  you 
saw  the  leopard  still  warm  upon  the  floor  of  this 
palaver  house.  Now  I  ask  you, — did  you  see 
with  your  eyes  the  leopard's  whiskers?" 

One  and  another  said,  yes,  they  had  seen  the 
leopard's  whiskers. 

"Even  so,"  said  Bekalli,  "when  I  began  to 


BLKALLI SON    OF   EFA 


THE   SMALLEST   GIRLS   IN   ASSAM  S  SCHOOL 

These  little  girls  are  going  to  pay  their  school  tuition 
with    the     peanuts     and     the    corn     in     their    baskets. 


THE    BIG    BOYS    IN    ASSAM  S    SCHOOL 


ASSAM  AND  ME  JO  145 

skin  that  leopard  there  were  no  whiskers — not  as 
much  as  your  eyelash!" 

A  great  silence  fell  upon  the  people  in  that 
palaver  house.  Me  jo  and  Assam  were  not  the 
only  frightened  creatures  there. 

Bekalli  continued:  "I  do  not  accuse  the  mem- 
bers of  my  father's  household,  nor  of  his  town, 
nor  of  his  neighborhood.  Why  should  they  hate 
my  father  or  hunt  a  way  to  hurt  him?  I  say,  it 
is  these  strangers  who  are  troubling  my  father." 

At  this  moment  the  bush  rope  on  the  floor  was 
violently  agitated.  Every  eye  in  the  room 
looked  with  horror  at  that  cord. 

Bekalli  continued: 

"These  strangers  have  brought  new  things  to 
this  town  that  are  not  the  things  of  black  men. 
They  have  brought  a  new  magic  to  this  town. 
And  a  new  power.  By  the  strange  magic  of 
their  power  they  cast  a  spell  upon  the  boys  in 
school.  All  day  in  that  school  there  is  a  great 
silence  except  as  these  strangers  permit  the  boys 
to  speak!" 

A  curious  look  of  intelligence  dawned  upon 
many  faces  in  that  crowd. 

"But  the  magic,"  Bekalli  went  on,  "did  not 


146      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

have  power  over  real  men.  None  of  you  felt  that 
power.  I  did  not  feel  it.  My  father  continued 
at  all  times  to  speak  as  he  pleased.  For  this 
reason,  because  the  new  magic  had  no  power  over 
my  father,  these  strangers  struck  him  with  a 
leopard's  whisker." 

Now  a  murmur  began  to  grow  in  that  com- 
pany. One  took  counsel  with  another.  Bekalli 
standing  in  the  midst  said  no  more,  but  a  friend 
of  his  brought  the  bright  leopard's  skin  from 
where  it  was  stretched  to  dry  in  the  sun;  it  was 
spread  upon  the  clay  floor,  and  the  absence  of 
whiskers  was  noted.  The  clamor  of  comment 
grew,  and  Efa  groaned.  Every  one  was  then 
still ;  but  at  the  sound  of  that  groan,  angry  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  the  teachers.  Mejo  felt  Assam's 
hand  grip  his  shoulder,  and  Assam  began  to 
speak. 

Although  he  was  a  person  of  the  tribe  of  God, 
he  said,  he  was  not  ignorant  of  the  old  things  of 
the  black  man.  His  father  was  Akulu  Mejo — 
wise  in  every  knowledge  of  magic.  Therefore  he 
knew  that  the  next  word  from  the  mouth  of 
Bekalli  would  be  a  word  about  the  trial  by 
poison. 


ASSAM  AND  MEJO  147 

At  this  Bekalli  sprang  to  speak.  But  Assam 
continued  very  quietly  to  say  that  there  would 
be  no  help  for  him  nor  for  his  brother  if  they 
were  tried  by  poison,  and  fell,  and  were  killed 
by  the  daggers  of  strangers  in  this  town  of 
strangers.  Many  innocent  men  had  fallen  in 
the  ordeal  by  poison,  and  so  might  he  fall  and 
his  little  brother.  But  what  hope  would  there  be 
for  Efa  in  their  death? 

"There  is  indeed  a  new  power  in  this  country," 
said  Assam.  "It  is  the  power  of  the  people  of 
the  tribe  of  God  to  heal  disease.  It  is  not  a 
magic,  it  is  a  knowledge — a  wisdom.  The  doctor 
of  the  tribe  of  God  has  that  knowledge.  At  the 
missionary  town  there  is  such  a  doctor.  He  is 
not  a  witch  doctor — he  does  not  speak  of  witches. 
With  his  great  wisdom  he  hunts  the  sickness  in 
the  body  of  a  man,  and  he  makes  a  medicine  to 
cure  that  disease.  If  I  lie  here  dead  in  this 
palaver  house  and  my  brother  beside  me, — how 
will  our  two  deaths  heal  Efa — our  friend  and  the 
father  of  this  village?  But  if  four  real  men  of 
this  village  rise  up  and  bear  Efa  upon  the  path 
that  I  can  show  them,  and  if  I  lead  them  to  the 
missionary  town,  and  if  we  there  beg  the  Chris- 


148      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

tian  doctor  to  heal  this  disease  which  has  caught 
Efa, — then  shall  the  living  praise  God!" 

From  the  bed  where  Efa  lay  he  suddenly 
spoke,  and  his  friends  were  astonished. 

"I  desire  to  follow  Assam  to  the  town  of  the 
Christian  doctor.  Those  who  love  me  must 
carry  me!" 

And  nothing  more  would  Efa  say  but  those 
two  words  in  his  feeble  voice, — 

"I  desire!    I  desire!" 

None  in  that  company  dared  oppose  him,  not 
even  his  angry  eldest  son.  The  real  men  of  the 
neighborhood  were  bound  to  obey  him.  They 
had  respected  Assam,  and  there  was  a  calm  and 
a  courage  about  his  manner  at  this  time  which 
impressed  them.  It  was  determined  to  carry 
Efa  at  night  lest  the  heat  of  the  day  overcome 
him. 

That  very  night  in  a  hammock  made  of 
Assam's  blanket  tied  to  a  pole  and  borne  by 
relays  of  two  men,  Efa  went  away  upon  the  path 
to  the  place  where  the  sun  sets.  Assam  led  the 
way  with  his  lantern. 

Bekalli  was  left  to  rule  the  town  and  Me  jo 
was  left  to  keep  the  school. 


ASSAM  AND  MEJO  149 

Me  jo  stayed  because  his  brother  said  that  the 
school  must  not  "die." 

"It  is  our  work,  however  hard.  It  is  harder 
for  you  than  for  me,"  said  Assam.  "I  wish  I 
could  take  you  with  me,  but  you  see  how  God 
has  made  a  path  for  us  in  all  these  dangers,  and 
we  must  believe  that  He  will  care  for  you  even 
when  you  are  alone.  Try  to  do  all  the  big  works 
and  let  the  little  works  go.  Take  the  clever  boys 
to  help  the  slow  ones.  You  know  if  I  will  hurry 
back." 

And  Assam  had  begun  to  hurry  already.  Be- 
fore Me  jo  could  say  any  of  the  fear  and  loneli- 
ness of  his  heart  Assam's  lantern  was  walking 
away  beside  Assam's  legs.  Soon  that  dear  light 
was  lost  upon  the  forest  path. 

Me  jo  stood  at  the  door  of  his  house,  asking 
his  heart  how  he  could  sleep  alone  in  that  place. 
If  even  he  had  had  his  blanket  or  his  lantern! 
And  while  he  was  dreading  to  enter  that  little  hut, 
where  he  would  miss  his  brother  too  much,  Bekalli 
came  through  the  dark.  He  carried  a  torch.  His 
mother  was  with  him  and  had  a  load  of  his  be- 
longings. He  did  not  speak  to  Mejo;  he  entered 
the  teacher's  house  and  his  mother  followed  him. 


150      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Presently  she  came  out  again.  She  carried  the 
torch,  the  school  clock  and  all  the  books. 

"Follow  me,"  she  said,  "by  order  of  Bekalli  I 
show  you  the  path  to  your  house.  He  says  he 
will  send  you  all  the  school  goods  to-morrow." 

Poor  Me  jo  could  not  speak.  He  followed 
that  woman  to  a  lonely  cabin  that  was  a  little 
way  outside  the  village.  She  turned  to  leave 
him  at  the  door  of  that  hut  and  he  begged  her 
for  the  torch. 

"There  is  no  fire  in  the  house,  I  beg  you  to 
leave  the  torch." 

"Then  show  me  the  path  back  to  my  own 
house!" 

And  Me  jo  showed  her  the  path  back  to  her 
own  door  by  the  torchlight.  He  was  hoping  that 
some  of  the  older  school  boys  would  see  him 
going  away  by  himself  and  would  pity  him. 
"Perhaps  some  two  will  come  to  sleep  with  me 
in  that  lonely  house,"  he  thought.  But  none 
did.  He  entered  his  new  house  alone.  By  the 
light  of  the  torch  he  saw  the  mushrooms  growing 
out  of  the  moldy  clay  floor  and  he  saw  the  gray 
mold  on  the  bamboo  beds.  He  smelt  the  odor 
of  a  musty,  unused  house. 


ASSAM  AND  MEJO  151 

He  knew  that  he  must  work  quickly  for  his 
torch  was  burning  down.  There  was  no  firewood 
in  the  house,  but  there  was  a  rotten  drum  and  a 
big  log  rough-hewn  to  a  stool.  He  would  make 
a  fire  of  these.    And  he  busied  himself. 

Moving  about  in  the  stillness  of  that  deserted 
place,  he  heard  the  dropping  of  heavy  dews  from 
the  plantain  leaves  back  of  the  house.  And  pres- 
ently he  heard  another  sound  there — a  rustle  and 
a  breathing.  His  heart  stood  still.  The  back 
door  of  the  little  hut  was  barred,  while  the  front 
door  was  open.  A  friend,  he  thought,  would 
come  to  the  front  door.  And  he  thought  of  the 
witch  doctor,  with  his  painted  face,  who  had  left 
the  town  in  anger.  The  rustling  crept  along  the 
rear  wall  of  the  house  and  breathed  against  the 
door.  Me  jo  thought  of  spirits.  He  smelt  an 
odor  of  wood  smoke  through  the  cracks  in  the 
bark,  and  he  thought  again  of  the  witch  doctor. 
Poor  little  Me  jo  trembled,  standing  very  still. 
Then  he  heard  a  soft  little  voice  and  it  was  the 
voice  of  Asala! 

"Ah,  Mejo,"  she  whispered  through  the  door, 
"Let  me  in!  Bilo'o  and  I — we  are  here.  We 
crept  secretly  through  all  the  back  yards.    We 


152      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

have  come  to  keep  you  company !  But  first  shut 
the  front  door,  so  that  none  may  see!" 

Me  jo  slid  the  bark  door  into  place  and  barred 
it.  He  was  laughing.  He  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing he  was  so  glad.  Asala  came  in  with  Bilo'o. 
Me  jo  suddenly  loved  his  little  sister  with  a  great 
love  that  was  the  sum  of  his  love  of  his  brother 
and  his  father  and  his  mother  and  the  village  at 
home.  She  looked  at  him  with  her  sweet  bright 
eyes.  She  carried  a  kettle  hot  from  the  fire. 
Bilo'o  carried  firewood  still  warm  and  from  the 
smoking  ends  she  blew  a  flame.  Soon  the  kettle 
was  on  the  fire,  the  sound  of  its  boiling  made  a 
sense  of  home  about  the  two  children  and  the 
childless  woman  who  sat  by  the  fire.  Softly 
they  began  to  speak  together  in  a  great  peace 
and  quiet. 

"Every  night  Bilo'o  and  I  will  come  to  you 
like  this,"  said  Asala.  "We  will  then  cook  your 
food  for  you.  None  shall  know,  and  when  the 
food  is  eaten  and  the  work  is  done,  you  will  teach 
Bilo'o  from  the  word  of  God.  Ah,  Mejo," 
said  Asala,  looking  at  her  brother  with  little 
lights  in  her  eyes,  "My  ntyi  Bilo'o  wishes  to  be- 
come a  member  of  the  tribe  of  God!" 


CHAPTER  VI:  THE  RETURN  OF  THE  AD- 
VENTURERS 


CHAPTER  VI:  THE  RETURN  OF  THE  ADVEN- 
TURERS 

THESE  things  happened  in  the  time  of  the 
new  moon.  All  that  moon  and  when  that 
moon  was  lost  Me  jo  did  the  work  of  Assam  in 
the  village. 

In  the  morning  and  in  the  evening  he  called 
the  villagers  to  assemble  and  he  read  to  them  the 
Word  of  God  and  prayed.  More  and  more  of 
the  villagers  answered  the  call  to  these  daily 
gatherings,  when  the  book  of  God  was  opened  up 
to  them  by  a  little  lad.  On  a  Sunday  he  called 
them  for  a  service,  and  they  began  to  learn  the 
custom  of  the  service,  singing  with  the  school 
children,  and  stumbling  along  with  the  recitation 
of  the  Lord's  Prayer  and  the  Ten  Command- 
ments. 

In  all  these  matters  Me  jo  tried  to  conduct 
himself  like  Assam.  He  was  not  thinking  now 
of  Livingstone  or  Susi  or  Chuma — he  was  re- 
membering his  brother  Assam,  who  was  so  kind 
and  so  dignified  and  so  quiet.     When  in  the 

155 


156      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

morning  he  opened  the  school,  standing  by  his 
table  before  the  rows  of  boys, — so  many  of  them 
bigger  and  older  than  himself — he  stood  like 
Assam.  He  met  all  those  attentive  eyes  with 
Assam's  expression,  and  in  the  voice  of  Assam 
he  gave  his  orders.  He  had  no  time  to  be  fright- 
ened or  to  be  proud. 

He  put  the  boys  who  were  studying  the  ad- 
vanced charts  over  the  laggards  who  were  still 
stumbling  through  the  alphabet.  He  exacted, 
with  a  severity  which  he  had  learned  from 
Assam,  a  good  physical  discipline.  Classes  rose 
on  signal  like  one  man.  Silence  reigned,  broken 
only  by  the  murmur  of  recitations;  an  austere 
little  teacher  hunted  and  reproved  dirty  hands 
and  jiggered  feet  from  class  to  class. 

Bekalli,  swaggering  into  the  school  one  day 
early  in  Assam's  absence,  was  greeted  in  order. 
The  school  rose  like  a  machine ;  many  voices  like 
one  voice  said, 

"Our  chief!  Mbolo." 

And  like  a  machine  the  many  brown  bodies 
were  seated. 

"Ah,  Mbolani,"  murmured  Bekalli,  looking  at 
them  a  little  awed.    In  action  like  this  all  these 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  157 

boys  and  youths  seemed  strange  to  him, — no 
longer  like  his  neighbors  and  companions.  Of 
course  he  was,  in  his  father's  absence,  the  keeper 
of  the  town.  He  came  in  often  after  this;  they 
saluted  him,  and  he  returned  the  salutation. 

The  teacher  and  the  young  headman  never 
spoke  together.  But  neither  did  the  headman 
further  persecute  the  teacher.  Bekalli  adopted 
more  and  more  the  manner  of  his  father,  Efa, 
and  Me  jo  was  more  and  more  like  his  brother, 
Assam. 

Asala  and  Bilo'o  came  every  night  to  the  hut 
outside  the  village,  and  no  longer  in  secret. 
Bekalli  knew  of  their  visits,  but  did  not  forbid 
them.  Other  women  began  to  visit  Me  jo  with 
little  presents  of  food.  School  boys  continually 
hung  about  the  door  of  that  hut  to  observe  and 
admire  their  teacher.  Imitations  of  Assam's 
manner,  passed  on  through  Me  jo,  began  to  be 
seen  in  every  village  of  that  neighborhood  and 
upon  every  path. 

Thus  it  was  that  Assam  returned  to  find  Me  jo 
in  a  great  peace  and  busyness.  On  a  day  after 
the  making  of  the  new  moon,  when  the  sun  was 


158      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

in  the  middle  and  the  boys  were  filing  out  of 
school,  the  cry  went  up — 

"B'asoya!"  (They  have  come.)  And  there 
was  a  stampede.  All  the  school  boys  and  all  the 
villagers  ran  to  the  path  that  came  from  the  west. 
Me  jo  stood  at  the  door  of  the  school.  He  saw 
Efa  come  from  the  shade  of  the  path  into  the 
violent  sunlight  of  the  clearing.  Efa  wore  a  felt 
hat  and  a  gorgeous  loin  cloth.  A  leopard's  skin 
hung  upon  his  shoulders.  He  carried  a  staff. 
He  was  laughing.  A  great  sound  of  shouting 
and  of  laughter  filled  the  clearing.  Brown 
bodies,  big  and  little,  pressed  about  Efa. 

Presently  Me  jo  saw  the  dear  body  of  Assam 
move  away  from  the  crowd.  Assam  was  looking 
for  his  little  brother. 

"Is  he  well?"  he  asked  one  and  another  of  the 
school  boys. 

"Certainly  he  is  well!"  they  answered.  And 
Assam  saw  Me  jo  come  to  meet  him  from  under 
the  eaves  of  the  school  house. 

They  met,  greeting  one  another  with  their 
eyes.  They  could  not  speak  their  hearts  out  in 
that  public  place,  with   school  boys   gathering 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  159 

about  them.  Assam  gave  Me  jo  his  lantern  and 
a  little  pack  he  carried  on  his  head. 

"Why  do  you  go  upon  that  path?"  he  asked 
his  little  brother,  when  Me  jo  turned  out  of  the 
clearing. 

"Our  house  is  upon  this  path,"  said  Mejo. 

Assam  turned  to  the  many  boys  who  crowded 
at  his  heels — 

"Go  home,"  he  said,  "let  two  brothers  speak 
together  in  peace." 

And  a  great  peace  fell  about  the  two  sons  of 
Akulu  Mejo  where  they  sat  together  during  the 
noon  hour  in  that  little  hut  that  was  away  from 
the  clamor  of  the  village.  Only  a  little  girl  came 
to  salute  her  elder  brother, — to  bring  him  food 
and  to  sit  upon  his  knees  in  the  old  Bulu  custom 
of  greeting  when  the  young  of  the  family  salute 
their  elders. 

All  the  news  of  their  father's  town  was  good 
and  all  the  news  of  the  journey.  Efa's  healing 
was  a  good  healing.  The  doctor  said  that  Efa's 
sickness  was  a  sickness  from  eating  meat  that 
was  too  old.  Perhaps  the  meat  of  the  leopard 
was  too  old  when  Efa  ate  the  last  of  that  meat. 


160      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

Now  that  he  was  well  again  he  was  a  great  friend 
to  Assam,  and  to  others  of  the  tribe  of  God. 

"He  and  the  real  men  of  the  tribe  of  God  have 
spoken  much  together  of  the  things  of  God.  He 
has  asked  me  every  day  upon  the  path  many 
questions  about  these  things — as  a  man  asks 
when  the  spirit  of  God  knocks  at  the  door  of  his 
heart." 

"Then  he  will  be  a  great  friend  to  our  school," 
said  Mejo,  "and  it  will  be  more  than  ever  a  good 
school." 

"Silly!"  said  Assam,  laughing.  "Did  you  not 
see  the  rain  fall  yesterday?" 

"I  saw  it, — the  first  rain  of  the  rainy  season." 

"Did  you  not  know  that  the  first  rain  is  the 
sign  to  close  the  vacation  school  and  to  return  to 
the  station  school?  Mr.  Krug  said  to  me,  'Re- 
turn with  Efa,  close  the  school  well,  and  bring 
back  all  the  boys  who  begin  to  read  the  primer.' ' 

Mejo  looked  at  his  brother  in  astonishment. 

"You  speak  the  truth!  The  months  of  village 
school  are  now  three  months.  But  I  had  for- 
gotten!" 

"Do  any  of  the  boys  begin  to  read  in  the 
primer?"  asked  Assam. 


MISSIONARY  MAP     OF  AFRICA 

*     (Presbyterian) 


CAJRO 


This  map  of  Africa  shows  where  the  home  of  the  Bulu 
people  is.  They  live  in  the  Cameroun,  that  part  of  the 
map    which    is    shaded    dark    near    the    Gulf   of    Guinea. 


Map  of  the  Mission  field  reproduced  by  permission 
of  the  Woman's  Board  of  Foreign  Missions  of  the  Pres- 
byterian  Church,  in  the  U.  S.  A. 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  161 

"Two  tens  of  boys  read  in  the  book.  Ten  of 
them  read  the  lesson  about  the  cutlass,  but  the 
clever  ten  read  about  the  elephant." 

"A  good  real  reading  or  a  speaking  by  heart?" 

"A  good  real  reading — that  begins  in  the  mid- 
dle if  you  choose." 

"Fine!"  said  Assam.    "I  give  thanks." 

"Ah,  Assam,"  said  Asala. 

"Speak!" 

"I  too  am  reading — I  read  about  the  ele- 
phant!" 

"I  have  a  great  word  for  you,"  said  Assam. 
"Mr.  Krug  was  speaking  with  Efa.  He  told 
Efa  that  you  must  return  with  us  to  school,  he 
promised  Efa  that  the  white  woman  would  care 
for  you  day  and  night.  He  said  that  you  would 
learn  all  the  things  of  the  black  women  that  are 
good  things, — farming  and  cooking  and  to  keep 
a  house.  He  said  you  would  learn  obedience, 
and  to  speak  with  a  good  mouth.  And  the  word 
of  God  you  would  learn.  Efa  said,  'Well. 
Those  were  good  things  to  learn.'  He  said  that 
he  would  trust  the  white  woman  to  keep  you, 
because  that  woman  is  the  wife  of  the  doctor  who 
healed  him.    So  you  return  with  us!" 


162      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"What  shall  I  say!"  said  Asala,  and  her  little 
brown  face  was  astonished. 

"Eh — my  mother!"  she  whispered. 

"Another  thing  Efa  told  Mr.  Krug.  He  said 
that  he  meant  to  give  you  away  when  you  were 
no  longer  a  child,  but  a  girl  to  be  married.  He 
means  to  give  you  to  his  son  Bekalli." 

Asala  turned  her  back  upon  her  brothers  and 
looked  at  the  wall.  They  did  not  speak  to  her 
further.  Me  jo  told  Assam  how  Bekalli  stole 
his  house. 

"What  other  deeds  of  hate  has  he  done?" 

"None." 

"That  is  good,"  said  Assam  thoughtfully, 
looking  at  his  little  brother. 

"Ah,  Mejo,  God  has  given  you  wisdom  in 
these  days  to  do  His  work  well.  What  is  your 
name  now — Susi  or  Chuma  or  perhaps  Liv- 
ingstone?" 

"Don't  tease  me,"  said  Mejo.  "And  truly  I 
had  forgotten  about  the  choosing  of  names!" 

Three  days  later,  those  boys  who  had  begun 
to  read  from  the  primer  packed  their  little  loads. 
From  their  mothers  they  begged  food  for  the 
journey.      From    their    fathers    they    begged 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  163 

leave  to  go  to  the  white  man's  school.  The 
caravan  gathered  in  Efa  Nlem's  town.  Assam 
and  Me  jo  sat  in  the  palaver  house  beside  their 
own  loads,  and  the  loads  of  goods  that  had  been 
paid  in  for  school  tuition,  and  that  must  now  be 
carried  to  the  Mission  station  by  the  school  boys. 

At  noon  the  little  caravan  moved  away ;  twenty 
boys  and  a  happy  little  girl  followed  the  young 
teachers.  There  was  a  gay  clamor  and  laughter, 
last  good-bys  were  called  and  the  voice  of  youth, 
set  out  upon  the  path  of  progress,  died  away  in 
the  forest. 

"Besom  b'akele  he!"  sighed  those  women 
whose  hearts  had  been  touched  by  the  Things 
of  God.    And  Bilo'o  said  to  them, — 

"Some  day  we  will  beg  Efa  to  let  us  make 
them  a  visit.  Then  we  will  cook  them  a  present 
of  food.  And  when  we  come  to  the  white  man's 
town,  we  will  see  the  tribe  of  God  gather  under 
the  great  roof  that  is  there." 

So  those  who  were  left  behind  spoke  together 
all  day,  and  remembered  the  absent.  But  these, 
on  the  journey,  spoke  continually  of  the  new 
things  they  were  to  see  in  school. 

They  slept  that  night  in  a  new  clearing  where 


164      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

a  headman  was  building  a  town.  In  the  street 
of  this  half -built  town  two  great  logs,  the  last 
of  the  debris  of  the  forest,  were  still  burning. 
The  boys  ranged  themselves  the  length  of  this 
low  fire.  They  set  their  kettles  upon  it  here  and 
there ;  they  waited  under  the  stars  for  their  sup- 
per to  cook.  Asala  was  busy  cooking  for  her 
brothers ;  they  too  sat  beside  the  fire. 

Suddenly  from  the  dark  about  them  a  young 
man  appeared;  he  sat  down  beside  them.  In  the 
light  of  the  fire  Me  jo  saw  with  a  great  astonish- 
ment that  it  was  Bekalli.  And  he  looked  at 
Assam. 

"Bekalli,  Mbolo,"  said  Assam. 

"Ah,  Mbolo,"  said  Bekalli. 

"Are  you  going  to  the  beach?"  asked  Assam 
after  a  pause. 

"Not  to  the  beach,  but  to  school.  I  am  walk- 
ing in  your  caravan  to  school." 

Assam  said  nothing,  he  looked  embarrassed. 
Mejo  noticed  that,  and  so  did  Bekalli. 

"Isn't  it  good?"  he  asked,  quite  humbly. 

"It  would  be  good,"  said  Assam.  "Certainly 
good — if  you  could  read.  But  I  fear  for  you 
with  Mr.   Krug  when  you  tell  him  that  you 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  165 

cannot  read.  Then  perhaps  he  will  send  you 
away,  and  you  will  feel  shame  and  I  will  feel 
sorrow." 

"I  can  read,"  said  Bekalli,  still  humbly.  "My 
little  brothers  taught  me  to  read  all  the  charts, 
and  when  I  went  too  fast  for  them  and  wished 
to  learn  to  read  in  a  book,  then  Asala  taught  me." 

"I  hear,  and  it  is  good.  Good  for  you  and 
for  us  all." 

Me  jo  said  nothing  and  Assam  said  no  more. 
Asala  presently  took  her  kettle  off  the  fire ;  upon 
three  clean  squares  torn  off  a  green  plantain  leaf 
she  put  the  smoking  plantains  that  she  had  baked 
in  the  hot  ashes.  These  she  laid  at  the  feet  of 
the  three  boys.  They  dipped,  each  with  his  own 
wooden  spoon,  their  supper  of  greens  from  the 
common  kettle.  She  herself  stood  aside  until 
they  should  finish,  but  Assam  said  to  her, 

"Eat,  then." 

And  she  dipped  her  little  folded  leaf  with  the 
others. 

"Asala  is  a  strange  child,"  murmured  Me  jo 
to  Assam,  when  they  lay  together  upon  a  bed  of 
the  palaver  house  that  night.  "Don't  you  fear 
that  she  will  be  too  proud?" 


166      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

"I  don't  see  it  yet — she  carries  herself  well. 
Don't  hang  your  heart  up  about  Asala,  but 
watch  your  own  walk." 

"I  hear,"  said  Me  jo. 

"On  the  last  day  of  that  journey  they  met,  at 
every  forking  of  the  way,  other  such  caravans  of 
eager  youths.  Obam  they  met,  followed  by 
seven  dwarf  boys,  and  carried  by  two  dwarf  men. 
From  his  hammock  made  of  a  blanket  Obam  told 
them  that  he  had  sprained  his  ankle. 

"These  Bulu  boys,"  said  the  dwarf  man  who 
carried  the  foot  of  the  hammock,  "are  wise  in  the 
things  of  books;  many  things  of  the  things  of 
God  they  teach  us.  But  the  day  they  follow  the 
dwarf  people  up  the  face  of  a  cliff  they  are  as 
stupid  as  women.    We  said  to  Obam: 

"  'Are  you  a  dwarf  that  you  should  climb 
Nko'ovas?  A  teacher  that  breathes  is  better 
than  a  dead  one!'  " 

"Even  so,  he  tried  to  follow  us,  and  from  that 
day  he  taught  his  people  from  a  bed.  Every- 
where we  have  gone  in  the  forest  we  have  carried 
him — as  if  he  were  an  elephant's  tusk  of  great 
weight  and  of  great  value!" 

The  dwarfs  laughed  and  everybody  laughed. 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  167 

Obam  put  his  head  out  of  the  hammock  and 
laughed,  looking  at  Assam. 

"As  I  say,"  continued  the  dwarf.  "And  now 
we  return  our  elephant's  tusk  to  the  rich  man's 
town.  We  say  to  that  great  chief, — 'Keep  for  us 
this  treasure  while  we  leave  it  here.  And  when 
we  return  in  the  dry  season,  give  it  to  us  again, 
that  we  may  bear  it  to  our  own  place!'  " 

"Akeva!"  said  Obam  from  his  hammock. 

Bekalli,  from  his  place  in  the  growing  file  of 
school  boys,  saw  many  of  his  own  age  among  the 
strangers  that  came  in  from  the  many  paths  of 
the  forest.  Greetings  were  shouted  from  teacher 
to  teacher,  for  these  teachers  were  classmates  of 
old.  And  presently  these  caravans,  made  up  of 
little  community  groups,  began  to  sing.  Snaking 
along  the  trail  that  wound  its  way  among  the 
great  trees,  the  long  file  of  youths  began  to  sing; 
and  they  moved  to  the  rhythm  of  the  air — 

"Those  people  are  as  many  as  the  sands 
"They  are  many  as  the  sands  of  the  sea!" 

"I  understand,"  thought  Bekalli  to  himself, 
"that  they  sing  of  the  new  tribe.  And  I  begin  to 
see  that  the  people  of  the  new  tribe  are  many. 
It  is  well  that  I  see  this  thing  with  my  own  eyes 


168      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

— otherwise  I  could  not  know  it.  And  a  fine 
young  man  like  myself  must  know  these  new 
things,  he  must  know,  that  he  may  choose." 

"One  more  stream  to  cross,"  shouted  the 
teachers  to  the  strangers,  "then  you  will  see  the 
cassava  gardens  of  the  Mission." 

And  in  the  evening  light  the  stream  of  school 
boys  poured  in  to  the  clearing  of  the  Mission 
station. 

"They  certainly  say,"  thought  Bekalli  to  him- 
self, "that  the  new  tribe  is  as  abundant  as  rain. 
And  I  see  for  myself  that  in  this  place  the  many 
little  streams  gather  to  a  great  pool!" 

The  clearing  was  full  of  the  bodies  of  school 
boys — old  and  new.  The  old  boys  were  calling 
greetings  to  their  friends.  The  new  boys  were 
turning  their  heads  this  way  and  that  as  their 
teachers  said: 

"That  big  house  is  the  house  of  God." 

"That  big  house  is  the  upper  school,  and  be- 
yond is  the  lower  school  where  you  will  enter." 

"That  fine  house  with  the  iron  roof  is  the 
medicine  house,  where  the  doctor  does  the  work 
of  healing.  Those  houses  beside  it,  like  a  little 
village,  is  the  village  of  the  sick  people." 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  169 

"That  little  village  down  that  path  with  the 
fine  houses  all  of  plank,  is  the  town  of  the  car- 
penters and  the  blacksmiths  and  the  wise  ones 
who  are  taught  to  work  with  the  hands." 

"What  a  town !"  thought  Bekalli.  "I  am  dead 
with  wonder!"  He  felt  his  Bulu  pride  fall  from 
him  and  he  had  a  wish  to  run  away  from  this 
place  where  his  youth  and  beauty  could  not  dis- 
tinguish him. 

Assam  drew  near  to  him.  "You  feel  strange 
to-night,"  said  Assam.  "As  I  did  one  day  many 
dry  seasons  back.  I  beg  you  to  endure  the 
strangeness  and  the  loneliness.  Ah,  Bekalli," 
said  Assam,  "for  the  sake  of  your  clan,  and  the 
day  that  you  will  be  headman  in  the  seat  of  your 
father — I  beg  you  to  endure!  Like  a  cutlass 
that  must  be  sharpened  on  a  stone  for  a  great 
work  to  be  done,  so  I  beg  you  to  endure  the  hard 
things  of  school!" 

"I  hear,"  said  Bekalli.    "Akeva." 

The  beginning  of  a  love  for  Assam  was  in  his 
heart.  And  that  night  when  he  sat  under  the 
eaves  of  one  of  the  ten  great  houses  that  were  the 
boys'  town,  he  remembered  that  word.  About 
him  in  the  clearing  between  the  two  rows  of 


170      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

houses,  the  hundreds  of  young  bodies  gesticu- 
lated. At  one  end  of  the  village  there  was 
drumming  and  dancing.  At  the  other  end  be- 
side many  little  fires  groups  of  boys  were  cook- 
ing their  evening  meal.  A  joyous  clamor  rose 
from  this  compound  to  the  night  sky. 

Bekalli  held  in  his  .hand  a  cutlass — the  tool 
that  had  been  given  him  by  the  headman  of  the 
tool  house.  And  ten  boys  had  been  given  him 
for  a  work-gang. 

"To-morrow  morning,"  he  had  been  told, 
"when  the  drum  calls  to  work,  and  before  the 
time  of  school,  you  will  go  with  many  others  to 
clear  for  a  new  garden.  The  white  man  is  mak- 
ing a  rubber  plantation,  and  your  gang  goes  to 
the  clearing.  This  work  that  you  do  buys  your 
food  for  the  day.  Every  morning  you  work  and 
that  work  buys  your  food.    Every  boy  works." 

"I  understand,"  said  Bekalli  when  he  received 
his  cutlass.  But  he  did  not  altogether  under- 
stand. "Why  must  I  work  like  a  woman?"  he 
thought,  and  he  remembered  as  he  sat  in  the 
dusk,  turning  his  cutlass  over  in  his  hand,  the 
word  of  Assam. 

"He  said,"  thought  Bekalli,  "that  I  was  like 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  171 

a  cutlass  that  must  be  sharpened  for  a  great 
work.  And  the  school  is  the  grindstone.  All 
these  strange  things  of  work  are  the  grindstone. 
Assam  himself  has  been  ground  on  that  stone. 
I  agree  that  he  is  sharp  and  bright.  His  nick- 
name is — 'He  stands  like  a  dagger!'  It  remains 
for  me  to  endure!"  And  Bekalli  joined  the  little 
brothers  of  his  clan  about  a  kettle. 

About  a  kettle  in  the  palaver  house  of  Akulu 
Me  jo,  Assam  told  the  news  to  his  own  clan. 
Me  jo  sat  near  his  father,  who  gave  him  a  chicken 
leg  from  his  own  portion. 

"Perhaps  you  are  not  to  be  stupid,"  said 
Akulu  Me  jo  to  Me  jo.  "This  news  of  the  school 
is  great.  You  did  that  work  well.  These  sons 
of  mine  who  are  Christians  make  me  famous." 
And  Akulu  laughed. 

"Go  salute  your  mother  in  her  house,"  he  told 
Mejo. 

There  by  the  firelight  Mejo  found  his  mother 
and  his  sister.  In  the  morning  Asala  must  enter 
the  girls'  school,  with  the  girls  she  must  work  in 
the  garden,  in  the  clean  compound  of  the  girls' 
town  she  must  live  under  the  eye  of  the  white 
woman.     She  must  cook  with  a  new  cleanliness 


172      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

in  the  kettles  of  that  town.  She  must  wash  her 
little  belongings  in  the  running  stream,  she  must 
learn  to  sew,  and  all  the  afternoons  she  must 
learn  the  things  of  school  under  the  thatch  of  the 
girls'  school,  with  many  tens  of  girls. 

"I  shall  like  it,"  she  told  her  mother.  "But 
to-night  let  me  sleep  by  you  on  your  bed!" 

Presently  the  great  army  of  the  rain  came 
trampling  out  of  the  forest.  The  sound  of  its 
passing  in  the  night  was  an  uproar.  It  raged 
upon  the  roofs  of  the  girls'  town  and  upon  the 
roofs  of  the  boys'  town.  On  the  many  rough  beds 
the  tired  bodies  of  little  African  adventurers 
came  to  rest.  They  fell  asleep  under  the  famil- 
iar tumult  of  the  rain  upon  the  roof.  Lulled  by 
that  tumult  Asala  slept  beside  her  mother.  Me  jo 
slept  upon  his  own  bed.  Assam  sitting  by  his 
table  in  the  lantern  light  casting  up  his  school 
accounts  grew  drowsy  with  the  sound  of  rain. 
He  put  his  books  aside,  and  his  eye  fell  upon  the 
fly  leaf  of  Me  jo's  Bible,  still  open  at  this 
legend, — 

LIVINGSTONE  MEJO  AKULU 

and  below  that  written  at  another  time, — 

CHUMA  MEJO  AKULU 


RETURN  OF  THE  ADVENTURERS  173 

and  written  to-night  in  ink  that  was  just  dry, — 

MEJO    AKULU,    TEACHER    OF    THE    SCHOOL 

OF  MEKOK. 

Assam  laughed.  "What  a  strange  boy!"  he 
said,  as  he  put  out  the  light  and  laid  his  weary 
body  down  beside  the  weary  body  of  his  little 
brother.    And  he  said, 

"Mejo  Akulu,  teacher  of  schools, — I  salute 
you!" 


ABOUT  THE  PEOPLE  OF  THIS  STORY 


ABOUT  THE  PEOPLE  OF  THIS  STORY 

In  reading  this  book  you  are  reading  about  tribes,  mem- 
bers of  the  African  race  that  is  called  by  the  white  man, 
Bantu.  There  are  many  tribes  of  the  Bantu  people.  They 
live  in  Central  and  Southern  Africa.  Some  parts  of  that 
country  are  forest,  some  are  open  country.  The  open  coun- 
try is  called  by  the  white  man  the  grass  country.  The  Bulu 
tribe  is  living  in  the  forest  country  about  two  hundred  miles 
north  of  the  equator  and  near  the  west  coast.  The  customs 
of  the  Bulu  are  like  the  customs  of  other  Bantu  people  who 
have  not  been  a  long  time  in  contact  with  the  white  man. 
They  have  no  knowledge  of  the  world  outside  the  forest; 
of  their  own  country  they  know  only  their  own  neighbor- 
hood. They  travel  on  foot  by  little  trails  from  settlement 
to  settlement.  They  have  no  written  language,  but  they 
have  a  good  language  to  speak.  The  men  are  good  hunters 
and  fishers,  and  good  builders  of  towns.  The  towns  of  the 
Bulu  are  built  as  you  will  read  in  this  story,  but  other  tribes 
of  the  Bantu  build  with  different  material, — some  with 
grass,  some  with  clay  and  wattles.  The  Bulu  make  their 
furniture  of  wood.  I  have  told  about  their  furniture  in  the 
story.  The  palaver  house  in  a  Bulu  town  is  a  big  house  at 
the  end  of  the  street  where  the  real  men  of  the  village  sit 
and  smoke  and  talk  and  eat.  Guests  are  received  there  and 
all  matters  of  general  interest  are  discussed  there. 

The  women  are  the  farmers.  They  plant  bananas  and 
plantains,  many  kinds  of  yams,  peanuts,  corn,  cassava, 
savory  herbs  that  we  white  people  do  not  have,  and  other 

177 


178      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

foods  that  we  do  not  have.  There  are  wild  fruits  in  the 
forest,  some  nuts  and  other  fruits.  But  there  is  no  com- 
plete diet  growing  wild  in  Africa ;  the  people  must  plant  to 
eat. 

The  Bantu  tell  time  by  the  sun  for  the  day,  the  moon  for 
the  month,  the  stars  for  the  season.  They  do  not  speak  of 
years;  they  speak  of  rainy  seasons  and  dry  seasons,  and 
they  count  time  by  their  plantings, — especially  among  the 
Bulu,  the  planting  of  peanuts. 

News  is  spread  by  travelers,  and  in  another  way — it  is 
announced  by  drums.  Upon  wooden  drums  a  good  drum- 
mer will  beat  out  a  message  that  sounds  like  the  clicking  of 
a  telegraph  machine.  But  that  clicking  is  very  loud ;  it  can 
be  heard  miles  away.  Our  call  drum  at  Efulen  mission 
station  could  be  understood  seventeen  miles  away.  Almost 
any  news  can  be  told  by  the  call  drum,  and  every  grown 
person  has  a  drum  name  by  which  he  may  be  called  from  a 
distance. 

All  Bulu  women  and  nearly  all  the  women  of  the  primi- 
tive Bantu  tribes  are  bought  and  sold.  A  little  girl  is  sold 
by  her  father  or  her  elder  brother.  The  man  who  buys  her 
puts  her  with  some  older  woman  of  his  town,  who  will  keep 
the  girl  until  she  is  marriageable.  A  Christian  man  does 
not  sell  his  daughter  or  his  sister  before  she  is  marriageable, 
or  against  her  will,  or  to  a  man  with  other  wives. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  little  girls  are  sold  and  sent  away 
from  home,  there  is  a  strong  family  love  and  loyalty  among 
the  Bantu.  And  there  is  a  strong  bond  among  the  members 
of  the  clan,  and  the  townspeople.  The  native  dress  of  Bulu 
men  is  made  of  the  bark  of  trees,  beaten  into  a  sort  of  cloth. 
Women  wear  aprons  of  leaves  and  a  kind  of  thick  tail  of 
dried  grasses.  They  still  tattoo  their  bodies,  they  still  wear 
necklaces  of  the  coarse  hair  of  the  elephant's  tail,  or  neck- 


ABOUT  THE  PEOPLE  179 

laces  strung  with  dog's  teeth,  or  the  teeth  of  leopards. 
They  wear  bracelets  of  brass  and  ivory.  The  men  carry 
spears  tipped  with  brass  or  with  iron.  But  there  are  many 
things  now  in  the  forest  that  are  manufactured  by  the  white 
man.  Calico  and  beads  and  umbrellas  and  hats  and  many 
more  things  of  the  white  man  may  be  bought  of  the  black 
traders  who  are  trading  through  the  forest. 

Certain  African  tribes  have  great  headmen  with  power 
over  many  people.  As  you  read  the  life  stories  of  Living- 
stone, Moffat,  Mackay,  Coillard,  and  other  missionaries, 
you  will  learn  the  names  of  some  of  these  great  chiefs. 
Among  the  Bulu,  however,  the  headmen  are  simple  folk, 
with  power  over  their  own  townspeople,  and  with  just  a 
local  fame.  In  their  own  neighborhoods,  however,  they  are 
obeyed  and  respected.  They  are  the  governors  of  their 
neighborhoods. 

The  Bulu,  like  other  Bantu  tribes,  believe  that  God,  the 
Creator,  has  forgotten  them.  So  they  have  made  up  a 
system  of  religion  of  their  own.  They  are  sure  that  many 
evil  spirits  are  present  in  the  world  to  do  harm,  and  that 
the  spirits  of  their  dead  ancestors  may  be  induced  to  protect 
them.  To  keep  off  the  evil  spirits  they  make  charms  and 
rules  of  conduct.  To  make  friends  of  friendly  spirits  they 
make  other  charms  and  other  rules;  and  to  induce  the  an- 
cestor spirits  to  guard  the  town  and  the  interests  of  the  clan, 
they  make  little  offerings  and  little  prayers  to  the  wooden 
images  that  are  the  little  habitations  of  the  ancestor  spirits. 
Certain  men  of  the  tribe  make  a  specialty  of  magic;  they 
are  the  witch  doctors  and  have  great  power,  especially  as 
every  death  is  thought  to  be  the  evil  work  of  magic.  Head- 
men must  always  practice  a  certain  amount  of  magic  for  the 
good  of  the  town.  Trial  by  poison  is  a  common  way,  de- 
vised by  witch  doctors,  to  find  out  who  has  given  the  "witch" 


180      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

to  the  sick  person.  If  the  person  who  drinks  the  poison 
gets  dizzy  and  falls  down — then  he  is  guilty,  and  those 
people  who  are  present  kill  him.  The  Bulu  people  attach  a 
great  importance  to  the  killing  effects  of  a  prick  by  a 
leopard's  whisker.  Some  of  them  think  there  is  magic  in 
such  an  injury,  but  our  mission  doctors  begin  to  believe  that 
wicked  men  dip  the  whisker  in  a  poison  that  they  make, 
and  with  the  poisoned  whisker  prick  their  enemies. 

The  Dwarfs  or  Pygmies  are  a  race  of  African  people 
smaller  than  the  men  of  other  known  races.  Their  average 
height  is  four  feet  seven.  They  are  dwellers  in  the  forest — ■ 
hunters  and  wanderers.  They  do  not  build  towns  as  other 
African  tribes  do,  nor  plant  gardens.  They  often  attach 
themselves  to  superior  tribes  and  wander  about  in  their 
neighborhood.  They  are  very  shy  and  timid.  The  great 
African  explorer,  Paul  Du  Chaillu,  has  written  about  his 
encounters  with  them;  Stanley  and  other  white  men  have 
written  about  them.  I  have  visited  the  clearing  where  the 
little  dwarf  headman  Be  had  built  some  leafy  shelters.  He 
himself  showed  me  the  trail  to  that  clearing.  It  was  as  I 
tell  you  in  this  story. 

School  boys,  you  will  notice  in  this  story,  are  respected; 
and  their  wisdom  is  admired.  This  is  very  generally  true 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  great  mission  schools.  The 
school  boy  is  New  Africa.  His  elders  look  to  him  for  light 
on  modern  problems.  He  is  distinguished,  not  only  by  his 
little  accumulation  of  knowledge,  but  also  by  the  little  pack 
of  possessions  that  he  has  been  everywhere  ambitious  to 
acquire,  and  by  his  new  custom  that  is  not  just  like  the  old 
town  custom.  Often  he  is  proud  and  overbearing,  but 
often  he  is  such  a  boy  as  I  have  tried  to  show  you  in  Assam. 

I  assure  you  that  I  have  not  idealized,  in  Assam  and  his 
school,  the  best  type  of  school  and  the  best  type  of  teacher. 


ABOUT  THE  PEOPLE  181 

Every  established  Africa  Mission  can  show  the  equal  of 
these.  Neither  have  I  exaggerated,  in  the  story  of  Asala, 
the  influence  of  a  little  Christian  girl  in  a  forest  community. 
Mejo  is  just  such  a  boy  as  is  common  in  our  schools — 
many  a  boy  of  his  age  and  type  has  had  to  bear  heavy 
responsibilities.  In  the  account  of  every  missionary's  ex- 
perience there  is  record  of  boys  and  of  girls  who  have 
distinguished  themselves.  It  is  fine  to  read  in  the  life  of 
Mackay  of  Uganda  about  Sembera,  the  first  Christian 
among  the  Baganda.  It  is  sad  but  very  thrilling  to  read  of 
those  young  Baganda  boys,  who  were  martyred  for  their 
faith  on  January  30,  1882.  In  our  own  mission  we  must 
always  remember  a  young  lad  who  was  killed  by  black 
soldiers  because  he  would  not  deliver  to  them  the  mission 
mail  bag.  Another  young  lad  of  our  mission  kept  for  us  in 
hiding  a  treasure  of  nearly  one  thousand  dollars,  and  faith- 
fully returned  every  piece  of  silver  money  when  the  danger 
of  robbers  was  past.  Girls,  too,  have  been  brave  and 
faithful.  Read,  if  you  can,  about  the  bravery  of  a  little 
maid  servant,  on  page  125  of  the  book  by  John  Mackenzie 
called  Ten  Years  North  of  the  Orange  River.  There  are 
more  of  such  stories  than  I  can  mention;  you  must  be 
looking  for  them  yourselves. 

I  would  like  to  say  about  the  narrative  of  Livingstone's 
life  as  recounted  by  Assam,  that  no  boy,  black  or  white, 
could  keep  so  long  a  story  in  his  head.  But  an  African  can 
keep  very  long  tales  in  his  head.  He  is  always  glad  to  illus- 
trate his  tale  as  Assam  did,  by  a  diagram  upon  the  ground. 
The  story  of  Livingstone,  as  told  in  this  book,  is  told  as  if 
it  were  translated  from  the  Bulu  language,  and  the  com- 
ments upon  it  are  just  such  comments  as  I  have  heard  a 
thousand  times  upon  one  and  another  account  of  the  things 
of  the  white  man. 


182      AFRICAN  ADVENTURERS 

No  one  who  wishes  to  know  Livingstone  must  be  satisfied 
with  this  little  account.  Poor  black  men  and  women,  sitting 
by  the  palaver  house  fire, — what  could  they  know  of  the 
great  adventures  and  the  great  heart  of  that  great  Christian 
Adventurer.  It  is  for  white  people  to  know  and  to  admire 
this  hero  of  their  race.  All  that  treasure  of  heroism  that  is 
stored  in  the  great  books  by  Livingstone  and  about  Living- 
stone are  the  inheritance  of  the  tribes  of  the  white  man. 
Other  such  treasure  there  is  in  the  lives  of  Robert  and 
Mary  Moffat,  Mackay  the  white  man  of  Works,  Hanning- 
ton  the  lion  hearted,  and  Mary  Slessor  of  Old  Calabar. 


THE    END 


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